Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora
by Alexa S. Blaze
Summary: Indiana is looking forward to a quiet life after his KotCS adventure, but when Madison Clarke walks into his office, everything changes. What was supposed to be a restful month becomes a wild ride across Europe with his family! MUTTxOC and INDIANAxMARION. Completed!
1. Chapter 1: Don't Stop Believin'

INDIANA JONES AND THE KEY OF PANDORA

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Chapter 1 - _Don't Stop Believin'_

_Just a small town girl/living in a lonely world/she took the midnight train/going anywhere_

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Henry (Indiana) Jones II's POV

I glanced up at the clock in my office. It was ten minutes until five o'clock, the time I would be packing up and heading home. Good. Marking homework was boring.

It was September 27th, 1957. Just one month after I had gone on my amazing trip to Akator and met my son Henry. Er, Mutt. He liked to be called Mutt, but I still called him Henry, just like my father called my Henry when I preferred to be called Indiana. Let me re-do that. Just like my father _used_ to call me Henry. He had passed away, unfortunately.

I was back to teaching archaeology at Marshall College. The students in my class seemed to be rather dull this year, but I was fine with that. Now that Marion and I were married and we had bought a small, two-story house not far from the college, I wanted to settle down and have a quiet life. No more adventures or archaeological digs for me.

I know what you're thinking. _Indiana Jones?_ Giving up? Well, it seems like that, but it makes sense. I'm almost sixty years old. Time for a little rest and relaxation.

So I had made a vow to myself: even if something crazy happens, for example, someone wants me to go and find Noah's Ark, I was going to say no.

Of course, I'm not well known for keeping my promises.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the voices hovering outside of my office door, and I jumped right out of my seat when someone opened it without knocking. Of course, it was my son Henry. I mean Mutt.

"Don't you ever knock?" I mumbled, sitting back down as he strolled into my office like he owned the place. That would be Mutt for you. I had pulled a couple strings at the college when I had gotten back from Akator, and he had been allowed to start taking classes, even though he had dropped out of high school. It hadn't really been a problem, because even though Mutt is a greaser and acts as if he couldn't care less for his education, he's actually really smart. Nonetheless, he doesn't want to go to college. He would much rather be fixing motorcycles.

Mutt sat down in one of the chairs across from my desk and propped his muddy boots on a table. He didn't move them even when I gave him a dirty look. They were the same boots he had worn to Akator.

Mutt and I had different ideas with what we wanted to do with the family. He wanted to keep going on archaeological adventures like I used to; I wanted to stop the craziness. Mutt had confided in me that it seemed strange to him that not even a month ago he was in a room with aliens and crystal skulls and was running from Russians and robbing graves and chasing trains on motorcycles and racing through the jungles of Peru and being bitten by scorpions and... I think you get the point. He finds it strange that he was doing all this so recently and now all of a sudden his greatest adventure is whether or not he can get his homework done on time. No one here knows the things Mutt's been through; to others, he's just another greaser.

A girl followed Mutt through the door, looking around nervously. I recognized her from one of my classes; she was nineteen-year-old Madison Clarke. She just so happens to be one of the few kids who are actually rather intelligent. Sadly, her father is John Clarke. He is one of the most obnoxious men I have ever met; he's a fellow history teacher here at the college.

Madison is a perfect girl. She's got a perfect family, perfect grades, perfect boyfriend, and perfect looks. Nothing is wrong with her life. I don't really mind, though, because she's not snobby. Actually, she's a very humble girl.

I peered at her over the top of my glasses. "What can I help you with, Miss Clarke?" I asked, but she turned to my son instead.

"Mutt, I asked you if you knew an Indiana Jones. Not my professor Henry Jones," she frowned. Mutt grinned.

"This is Indiana Jones, doll," he said.

I nodded. "Indiana is my nickname. Where did you hear it, though? I've asked everyone who knows it to stop calling me Indiana," I said. That had been my first step to trying to have a more 'normal' life: asking people to stop calling me Indy.

Madison raised her eyebrows. "Okay..." she said slowly, sinking down into my other chair and forgetting to answer my question. She looked a little bit confused. I watched Mutt out of the corner of my eye; he was checking Madison out, but I didn't think much of it. He was a greaser, and she was a preppy.

As I said, Madison was a perfect child. And that means she was a preppy. Greasers weren't perfect; they were rebels. But lettermen (or as Mutt and I said, preppies) were anything but rebels. Madison wore pink poodle skirts and white blouses that were too tight, and her perfectly curly brown hair reached her shoulders. Her skin was porcelain and acne-free, and she had warm chocolate eyes. I could tell Mutt thought she was hot, but I knew he would never think about her ever again once she was out of the room. She was just another preppy; not the type of girl Mutt goes for. Nothing was different or special between her and other normal girls.

I asked Madison what I could help her with again. She took a deep breath, as if whatever it was she was about to say was hard for her.

"I was sitting at home, alone, when I got a telephone call from my uncle Jeff. He sounded really panicked and worried over the phone, and told me that -" she stopped and looked pointedly at Mutt, who was examining his hands with interest. "Well, my uncle said I could only tell Indiana Jones. No one else."

I laced my fingers together and looked at her over the top of my fingertips. "You can tell Mutt, Miss Clarke. He's my son, and although it doesn't seem like it he's perfectly trustworthy," I explained.

"What?" Mutt said, sitting bolt upright. I rolled my eyes. He only ever pays attention when something has to do with him.

"He's your son?" Madison asked in disbelief, to which I nodded. She frowned. "I don't know... I guess if he's your son, then it's fine. But you have to promise not to mention this to anyone," she said. Mutt shrugged, telling her that mum was the word.

"Alright then," she started. "So, um, I got this phone call from my uncle. It sounded like he was struggling with someone on the other end of the line, and he told me that it was a matter of life and death," she sighed, and rubbed her hands together.

I sat up straighter and took my glasses off, laying them on my desk. "What was the name of your uncle again?" I asked. "Is his surname Clarke?"

Madison nodded. "Yeah. He's my father's brother. Jeff Clarke. He's an archaeologist. Maybe he knows you," she shrugged.

I nodded. "Yes, he's one of my good friends. Now continue your story, Miss Clarke."

"Right. So... when I was younger, he gave me this... this key." She pulled out a bundle of cloth from inside the folds of her skirt, and set it on my desk. I unwrapped it and held it up to the light so I could see it better. It was a large key; the same size as my hand. The metal it was made of was rusting and brown, and the end of the key was bent. Carved into it were ancient Greek letters that I couldn't read because of the rust. The key was obviously thousands of years old.

Madison continued, "he gave it to me when I was five years old, and told me never to lose it. I kept it in a shoebox in the bottom of my closet, and I haven't even thought about it until today. When Jeff called, he told me to bring this key straight to Indiana Jones, and he said that Indiana would know what to do with it."

The distraught girl took a breath. "Then someone with a Russian accent got hold of the phone, and told me that I was to give the key to three men who were coming to my house. He hung up just as someone broke down my front door, and I scrambled upstairs to grab they key. These three Russians came bounding up the stairs after me, and I hit one over the head with a vase, and knocked him out cold. I tricked another into jumping out the window, and the last man and I had a fight for the key, which I won. I came straight here after that, when I realised I might be in danger," she finished.

"I'm afraid you're right, Madison. You are in danger," I said grimly.

"_Whoo!_ More Russians!" Mutt cried out, jumping up and pumping his fists in the air. He sat down and muttered an apology when Madison looked at him queerly.

Mutt's outburst made me realise something. By helping Madison and her uncle, I would be taking part in another adventure. And I had told myself I wouldn't do anything more like this...

Screw it. I was Indiana Jones, not Henry Jones II. There was no way I wasn't going to help this girl.

Mutt must have seen my decision in my expression, because he grinned widely. "Told you you'll never let go of that fedora, Dad. You'll always be Indy, no matter how old you are," he said. Madison looked at the two of us in confusion, and I realized that I was grinning as widely as my son.

I cleared my throat and put my glasses back on, setting the key back down on the desk. Jeff Clarke was an old friend of mine; I had never made the connection between him and Madison. And I wasn't going on this adventure just because I loved archaeology and adventures, but also because I needed to save my friend. From what I had already heard, Jeff really was in danger. And so was Madison, but only for as long as she had the key.

"Whoa. Wait. You said you fought against these Russians?" Mutt suddenly asked. Madison nodded. "But you're just a preppy!" he exclaimed.

"Just because I'm a letterman's girlfriend doesn't mean I can't defend myself," she narrowed her eyes.

"Um, yeah. It does," Mutt retorted. "Fighting is for greasers, not girls in poodle skirts."

"That's enough, you two," I said, and I was surprised when Mutt actually didn't say anything. "Thank you, Madison. Your uncle is right; I do know what to do with this key. I'll keep it under my care while I search for Jeff. In the meantime, you and your parents should maybe go on vacation for a week or so; at least until the Russians realize the key is no longer at your house and you don't have it."

She nodded, got up to leave, and opened the door. I picked up the phone and dialled my new home number. Marion picked up after the third ring.

"Marion Jones speaking!" she said cheerfully. She really got a kick out of calling herself Marion 'Jones' now, but I didn't mind.

"It's me," I said. "I know I promised you no more adventures, but something's come up. I'm hoping to be flying out to London tonight." I gathered some stuff together while I said this, thinking about how the first step to finding Jeff would be flying to England.

Marion sighed. "I'm not surprised you can't keep your promise. I'll meet you at the airport in two hours," she said.

"What? No, Marion, I'm not bringing you on this trip. I've already put your life in enough danger."

"This is exactly why you didn't want to marry me the first time, isn't it? You were afraid I wouldn't be able to sit home all alone while you went and searched for random ancient objects. Well, I'm telling you now, Indy, I will not sit at our house waiting for you. I'm coming with you. We're in this together."

I sighed. "No way, Marion. It's not safe."

"Holy crap. You're almost as bad as Mutt. He thinks everything in this world is out to get me. I'm coming whether or not you like it. And I already accepted my life wouldn't be safe when I married you."

Dang it, the girl had a point. I shoved a bunch of papers into a briefcase as I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder. "Fine," I growled, "but if I tell you to do something you have to do as I say."

"Whatever," Marion said in a tone that let me know there was no way in the entire world she would do as I said. I could almost hear her smiling on the other end of the phone; she had broken me down until I said she could go. Damn that woman. I'll never understand her.

"See you at the airport in two hours," I grumbled, not happy.

"Wait! What are we going to do with Mutt?"

I turned my back on my son, who was still sitting in the chair. He had his switchblade in his hands, and he was flipping it into the air and then catching it. "He's nineteen year old. He can stay here by himself," I told Marion.

"Indy, I think he should come with us."

"Look, I'm already breaking my rules my letting you come! He's not coming too!"

"You have rules?" Marion giggled. "But honestly, Indiana, he should come with us. He's your son, and he was a big help at Akator. Also, he's been itching to go on an adventure ever since we got back from Peru. He's exactly like you in that way; he can't keep still. Adventure is in his blood."

"I don't know if he should come," I murmured, glancing at him.

"If we left without him, he'd probably just end up following us, and then we'd be in even bigger trouble. How would you feel if Mutt and I went on an adventure without you?"

"You know that's not fair, Marion. Fine. He can come. Mutt and I will meet you at the airport in two hours."

"You've got it, Indiana," she said, hanging up. I put the phone down and continued packing, when I heard a small and feminine cough. I looked up to see Madison, who was still standing in the doorway. I had seen her get up to go, but I hadn't seen her leave.

"Dr. Jones?" she asked, and I ran my fingers through my white hair, still looking at her. "I couldn't help but overhear you say you were going to London. Is that to search for my uncle?"

"Yep," I nodded, deciding she had the right to know. He was her uncle, after all.

"Well, um, I was just wondering if I could come too. With you, I mean. To look for Jeff."

I sighed heavily and sat down in my chair with a thump. How many dang people wanted to come? "I don't think that's a good idea, Miss Clarke," I said.

"But you're bringing Mutt. And Jeff isn't Mutt's uncle. He's mine. Don't you think I have the right to come? I mean, it is my key, and I want to know why the Russians practically destroyed my house looking for it."

"Mutt's coming because he's been on trips like this before," I explained, but I didn't say anything about her other points.

"Please, Dr. Jones?"

"I'm sorry Madison, really. But you're not really cut out for this stuff. You have no idea what this is going to become."

"What do you mean I'm not cut out for it? You're just saying that because I'm a preppy! I can take care of myself. I handled those three men at my place, didn't I?" she complained. I looked at Mutt for help, but he was too busy brushing his hair with his stupid little plastic comb. I really wanted to break that thing.

I sighed, thinking about it. I could always bring her and then tell her to stay in a hotel. She didn't actually have to come with us on anything important. Ah, what the heck. I would probably end up leaving all three of them behind. I didn't want to be saving anyone.

Then again, it had always been nice to have backup. But weren't Mutt and Marion backup enough?

"Fine, you can come. We'll need to go to your place to get some of your things. Mutt and I will come with you, because we don't know whether or not the Russians are still there. We'll be leaving in a minute," I said. What I didn't tell her was the real reason I let her come. It wasn't because of the things she had pointed out to me, or because I might need backup. It was because something deep inside me was telling me that this girl may be more important to this adventure then my bullwhip might be.

"Thank you so much, Dr. Jones," she smiled while I finished packing up some papers.

"Don't worry about it, Miss Clarke," I responded, motioning to Mutt to get his fat butt out of my chair, because we were leaving.

"You can just call me Madison, if that's not too familiar. On this trip, we're not really going to be teacher and student, are we?" she asked, clasping her hands together.

"Nope," I said, walking out the door. The three of us headed towards the college parking lot in the back of the school. I turned around and smiled at Madison. "But you can only come on one condition," I said.

"What's that, Dr. Jones?" she asked innocently.

I winked. "You have to call me Indiana."

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A/N: As you can see, this is only the intro. I promise it will get better, and that the chapters will become longer!

Don't go crazy on me if it's super bad, though. It's only my first fan fiction, and I didn't put my all into it. Oh well. Hopefully some of you will be nice and review, even though there's hardly anything to review!

Also, I picked the lyrics at the very start because they sort of symbolise Madison's leaving and the start of her adventure. She's a preppy - a small town girl. It was mostly just that one line of the song that I wanted to use. The rest of the song Don't Stop Believin' (by Journey, not me) doesn't really have anything to do with the story so far.

I don't own any of the characters you may recognize! So far, I think it's only Madison who i made up. And her dad and uncle, and the random Russians. But otherwise, I own nothing!

Don't leave me just yet; maybe I'll get an update up by later today! Au revoir!

-Lexi

:P


	2. Chapter 2: Acting Out

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

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Chapter 2 - _Acting Out_

_Up above the surface I was just a perfect child/but underneath it all I was craving to be wild/don't you judge by the cover it's so far from what you see/I'm losing all my patience waiting on you to believe_

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Madison Clarke's POV

Mutt Jones was hot, and he knew it.

He was even more dreamy then Elvis Presley. Of course I could never tell anyone this. Mutt was a greaser; I was a preppy. I wasn't even supposed to talk to greasers, let alone think about them.

It had been drilled into my mind that greasers were bad. They were rebels, and they went against even rule of life. I wasn't allowed to do anything that had to do with them.

Still, guys like Mutt made my heart race faster when I saw them. The leather jackets, denim pants, and black boots. The hair grease. The dangerous glint in their eyes. The rock-and-roll attitude. The motorcycles.

Especially the motorcycles.

When Mutt, Dr. Jones - I mean Indiana - and I got to the parking lot to the college, I couldn't help but admire Mutt's cycle. It was amazing. He had modified it so that it went faster than others, and the paint looked brand-new. When Indiana asked me if I would rather ride on his son's motorcycle with Mutt or ride in Indy's car, I wanted desperately to say Mutt's cycle. But I didn't for two reasons. One, because if anyone saw me - a letterman's girlfriend - on a cycle with a greaser, the rumours would start and my reputation might be ruined. Two, I wasn't comfortable being that close to Mutt.

It wasn't that I was afraid of the boy. Actually, it was more complicated than that.

I had developed a little crush on Mutt a couple months ago, and I was still crushing on him. He had to be the hottest guy in town, and although I was a bit ashamed to admit it, I was wild for him. I wasn't allowed to talk to greasers, and yet here I was, falling for one when I already had a boyfriend!

But I also found Mutt a bit annoying. I almost didn't want to go to England with Indiana, just because Mutt was going. His confidence and cockiness was what made him annoying. It was just so… rebel-ish.

So I rode in Indiana's car to my house. Lucky for us, the Russians weren't there anymore, but the house was a mess. I grabbed a couple things I absolutely needed, like a toothbrush and underwear. Once I had finished stuffing it all into a bag, I hopped back into Indiana's car and we drove to the airport to meet up with his wife.

Before we left, though, I had scribbled a note to my parents explaining my absence. It said something about me going on vacation with Uncle Jeff, and that I had had a couple friends over who had wrecked the house. I hoped my parents wouldn't be too angry when I got back from London.

It was a little shocking to me that I was actually doing this. Sneaking off across an ocean without my parent's permission! I was their perfect daughter who wouldn't dream about doing something this naughty. I mean, this was seriously bad.

Of course, I wasn't as perfect as they thought. I may have been a preppy on the outside, but I had always wanted to be something more; to have a little more excitement in my life. On the inside, I wanted to be a greaser.

Gasp.

Mutt was right. Preppies couldn't defend themselves. If I was who my parents (and the rest of the town, for that matter) though I was, I probably would have given the Russians they key as soon as they walked in the door. But inside, I wanted to be a rebel. I hated being a cube. I wanted to ride motorcycles, and date bad boys, and wear pants. But I didn't dare. Doing those things would be almost as bad as sneaking off to Europe.

Which was exactly what I was doing right now.

When we got to the airport, Mutt overreacted about leaving his motorcycle behind, because he obviously couldn't bring it on the airplane. I found this a bit stupid, but in a way I understood how he felt. His cycle was his prized possession.

I met Marion Jones for the first time. She was a very nice lady, with dark hair and sun-kissed skin. She seemed unsure about bringing me along, but after a bit she got used to the fact I was coming with them. Once she warmed up to me, we started chatting like old friends.

Time flied. Before I knew it, we were boarding the airplane. Indiana had gotten us tickets, and he passed them out as we stood in line to board. Marion smiled when she saw that she and Indy were in first class. I would be sitting in Economy. I was fine with this, except for one fact: a certain leather-jacketed greaser would be sitting right beside me.

We boarded the plan, and Mutt and I sat in silence for a few hours at the beginning of the ride. We were off to Europe. I couldn't believe I was going behind my parent's backs like this. I also couldn't believe I had suddenly started trusting my archaeology teacher. Oh, well. I was trying to save Jeff, and that was all that mattered.

"I can't believe my father let you come," Mutt said after a couple hours of flight time. "You're a freaking preppy. All you're going to do is slow us down, doll."

I made a mental note to throw a milk jug at him later. "Says who?"

"Says society. You aren't the first person I would pick to do this," Mutt took his comb out of his pocket and ran it through his hair, which he was constantly obsessing over.

"Hmm. Well, I don't want you here either," I snorted, crossing my arms.

"Too bad. I'm Indy's son. I go where he goes." Mutt put the comb back in his leather jacket pocket. "Honestly, doll, you have no idea what you're getting into. All those rumours about my dad's adventures? Yeah. Those are all true. And what we're getting into now is probably going to be something just as intense as that," he said. I sat back in shock. He didn't mean that, did he? I mean, the rumours about Dr. Jones were pretty far-fetched. Things about him and the Holy Grail, and Thuggies (whatever those were). He was just a college professor, right?

Right?

"I can take care of myself," I said. It seemed like I had been saying that fifty times today. Whatever. It was true.

"So…" Mutt said. We sat in silence for a couple minutes. "I would try to start up a conversation with you, but I'm a greaser, so I have no idea what you like, babe," he finally said.

We sat in silence for another couple of minutes, before I couldn't stand it any longer. "You've got an amazing motorbike," I blurted out, clapping my hands over my mouth as soon as I realized what I had just said. Mutt laughed.

"You honestly think so?" he smiled. Well, looks like that secret was out. I may as well tell him that yes, I do think so.

Mutt told me all about the modifications he made to the bike. I was surprised at how much of what he said that I could understand. He was surprised at how I actually seemed to be listening to him. As I learned during the next couple hours, there were a lot of things about Mutt that surprised me.

The biggest thing I learned was that Mutt liked to swing dance. Apparently he was really good at it. I raised an eyebrow at this.

"Do you really think you're that good?" I asked, teasing. He nodded, grinning. "Well then, you'll have to show me sometime how well you can dance," I winked, and he grinned wider.

"My moves will sweep you off your feet, babe. I'm better then Elvis," he said, which made me giggle.

"Why is your name Mutt?" I asked him at one point in our conversation.

He frowned. "Why do you want to know? You got a problem with it?"

"No," I stuttered. I had noticed that Mutt could lose his temper rather easily, and that he got angry often.

"It's just the name I picked, doll," he shrugged. "My real name is Henry Jones III."

I outright laughed at this.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Sorry," I said once I had calmed down and wasn't laughing so hard. "It's just that it doesn't suit you at all. Mutt is a much better name for you," I added. He nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of names…" I said slowly. "Don't call me Madison, okay? Call me Madie," I said, making my final decision. Madison would be the preppy I was at home. Madie would be the girl I was when I didn't need to worry about my reputation; Madie would be the girl who like motorcycles and who was friends with Mutt Jones. It was like I had two different sides to me. I was like Indiana, in a way. Henry Jones II was a college professor. Indiana Jones was an archaeologist and adventurer.

Madison was a cube; she was my shell. Madie was who I wanted to be - she was the girl I kept locked up inside.

For the first time in my life, I was going to let Madie take over.

"Alright, doll," Mutt said. "Madie it is." I smiled at hearing the sound of my 'new' name.

One of the other interesting things I learn about Mutt is that he believed in aliens. When I asked him why, he said nothing, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Let's just say I've held a crystal skull, doll," he said, and no matter how much prodding I did, he wouldn't say anything else.

I also met the rebel side of Mutt. A couple times, he accidentally let slip some of the things he's done, like stolen or broken into a car. He didn't mean to tell me these things, but he did. And even though I was Madie, I still didn't approve.

At one point during our conversation, I had reached up and ruffled his hair playfully. This turned out to big a big mistake.

Mutt jumped out of his seat, yelping and earning stares from some of the other passengers. "What was that for?" he demanded angrily, his face turning red and his eyes dancing crazily.

"I – I didn't – I..." I stuttered, suddenly afraid. If it had been my boyfriend who had jumped up angrily, I wouldn't have been worried. There was nothing my boyfriend could do to me. Mutt, on the other hand? I wouldn't put it past him to hit me.

I was saved by the bell though. Sort of. A stewardess came and asked him what the problem. He just glared and sat back down, saying nothing. But out friendly conversation came to an end as he tried to comb his hair back.

It was getting late, and I was getting tired. Just before I fell asleep on the airplane, I asked Mutt one more question, even though I knew he was still angry: "What's up with that horizontal scar on your right cheek? It wasn't there before this summer," I yawned, only half-conscious. Sleep was a mother's arms, reaching out for me, offering me safety. I was falling into blackness as I reached out and traced my fingers over Mutt's raised scar on his cheek. He started at my touch, as he wasn't expecting me to touch his face like this. I'm sure he thought if I was going to touch his face, it would be because I was going to slap him.

"This summer, I went to Peru and had an unfortunate run-in with a certain Russian woman, who slashed my cheek with her sword," he responded, not looking at me and removing my hand from his cheek.

I frowned. "Stupid Russians," I yawned again, before sleep overtook me and I curled up into a ball on my airplane seat.

xXxXx

When I woke up, I felt stiff and numb. My limbs wouldn't work properly, so instead I just lay on my seat, head resting on Mutt's warm chest, listening to his heart beating and smiling at the feeling his touch gave me. His thumb was tracing patterns on the edge of my stomach, where my blouse had become untucked and there was a bit of porcelain skin showing…

Wait, what?

I opened my eyes in alarm. For a few panicky seconds, I had no idea where I was, before I finally remembered everything. The phone call. The Russians. Indiana Jones. The airplane to England. My conversations with Mutt…

I found all the lights in my airplane cabin were off, but there was enough light that I could see things clearly. Mutt and I had both fallen asleep, but somehow I had ended up with my head against his chest and his arms wrapped around my waist. Slowly, I sat up and untangled myself from him. The boy was still sleeping, but he let out a loud snore when I pushed him so that he was sitting upright in his seat. I tucked in the little part of my blouse that had become untucked while I wiped the drool out of the corner of my mouth and unstuck my hair from the side of my face.

My clothes were all wrinkly, my hair could really use a good brushing, and my breath probably stank, but all my clothes and toiletries were in my suitcase, which I hadn't brought on the plane as a carry-on. I hoped Mutt didn't mind morning breath…

Holy crap. I needed to stop thinking about him. But that was rather hard, considering I now smelt like hair grease and leather: Mutt smells.

I absentmindedly wondered what my friends would think if they saw me now.

Correction: I absentmindedly wondered what Madison's friends would think if they saw me now. Right in this very moment, I was Madie, and so far, my only friends were Mutt Jones and his parents.

I really needed to get out more.

The cabin lights suddenly flickered on, blinding me. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I voice with a British accent came over the loudspeaker to announce that we were twenty minutes from landing in London, and that we had started our descent. I tried to shake Mutt awake, but he just snored louder. Finally, just as I was reaching up to mess up his hair to wake him up, he suddenly lurched and grabbed my wrist. I screamed a little at his sudden movement, which made him smile his annoying, cocky grin. What a nosebleed.

"Good morning, doll. How was your sleep?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so I just scrunched up my nose. At least it didn't sound like he was angry anymore.

"Do you have any idea what we're going to be doing in England?" I answered his question with a question. Mutt shrugged. "Well, your father has it figured out, right?" I asked.

He smiled. "Nope, probably not. He usually just makes things up as he does along. Actually, he always makes things up as he goes along."

Great. That made me feel so much better.

Mutt and I were silent for the end of the plane ride, and I wasn't sure I was glad or upset the ride was over. On the first had, I liked talking to Mutt. He made me laugh, and made me feel more like Madie. But one the other hand, he was annoying as ever (and had a rather scary temper), and I wanted to get far away from the stupid greaser.

We met up with Marion and Indiana just off the plane. I smiled when I saw them, but they both looked rather worried. Mutt seemed to sense something was wrong as soon as he saw his parents.

"There are three Russians on the plane," Indy explained as he watched the plane exit carefully, "and I think they know I have the key."

"We need to go before they exit the plane then," Marion said, tugging on her husband's arm.

I watched the plane exit with Indiana. All of a sudden, I spotted the three Russian men Indiana was talking about.

He was right to be worried. They were the same three that had attacked my house.

My heart turned to ice as one of them spotted me, pointed, and yelled something in Russian.

"Okay," said Indiana calmly, as if this happened every day. "Now we run."

xXxXx

A/N: I'm hoping everyone knows what A/N means? It means Author's Note. So, this is not part of the story.

I hope it's okay so far. As I said, it's not my best work, but I'm still learning.

The song 'Acting Out,' and the lyrics at the beginning are from Ashley Tisdale. I take no credit.

Once again, I don't own Indiana Jones or any of the characters you may recognize.

Please review, even though there's hardly anything up here yet! Updates will be coming soon... I hope that makes you happy!

In case you didn't know, a cube is someone who is totally stereotypical; there's nothing special about them. You don't want to be a cube. It means you're completly normal and predictable.

Lexi out! :P


	3. Chapter 3: Liberty Walk

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 3 - _Liberty Walk_

_It's a liberty walk, say goodbye to the people who tied you up/It's a liberty walk, feeling your heart again, breathing new oxygen/it's a liberty walk, free yourself, slam the door, not a prisoner anymore/liberty, liberty, li-li-liberty, liberty, li-li it's a liberty walk_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

When you read about people running away from bad guys in books, they don't tell you how it really feels.

The one word I would use? Exhilarating.

I had never done something like that before. Being chased through London's biggest airport is not something that happens every day. Then Joneses and I leaped over railings, jumped over staircases and ducked through doorways, trying to lose the Russians at the same time as trying not to lose each other.

I was terrified for my life, but the adrenaline made it more exciting. I felt liberated; finally I could be Madie with absolutely no trace of Madison. All I had to do now was ditch the dang skirt and heels.

The last part was easy. At one point during the chase, I became separated from the Joneses. The tallest of the three men chasing us was right on my heels, and I could feel him breathing down my neck. I ducked under a stairway and slipped off my high-heeled shoes. Once the man came within range, I chucked a shoe at him as hard as I could. It hit him in the chest and bounced off harmlessly. Oops.

He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me out from underneath the stairwell. I screamed, and started hitting him with the other shoe. Lucky for me, the three-inch heel of that shoe hit him square in the eye. He groaned in pain and let go of me. It was all the time I needed to scramble away to find the others.

So now I was running barefoot through a British airport, wrecking havoc and not even stopping to apologize. Yes, I was most defiantly not Madison right now.

I shook my head and let my curls become looser and more natural, before wiping off my makeup with the back of my hand. There. Now I even felt like Madie.

Madison wasn't who I really was. She was the girl who tried to fit into the mould that society created. Madie was free of those chains; she could breathe more freely. She wasn't a prisoner.

I now understood rebels fully; I understood why Mutt wasn't a letterman. Lettermen were trapped behind doors, and they all marched to the same beat. They all shared the same heart. Greaser's hearts all beat differently.

I followed the Joneses through the airport, and we raced outside. The Russians weren't far behind.

"_TAXI!"_ Marion screamed so loudly I almost had to cover my ears. A yellow cab pulled up beside the curb, and I had opened the door before it had even stopped moving. Mutt shoved me in from behind; we fell onto the backseat in a pile, all tangled up. Marion jumped in after us more gracefully, and shut the door. Indiana climbed into the passenger's seat.

"Step on it," he said, panting, and one look at Indy was all the cab driver needed to convince him to listen to my college professor.

Mutt was lying on top of me as the cab peeled out of the airport, the Russians shouting loudly, standing on the curb. The greaser propped himself up on his elbows and grinned down at me. It was his cocky grin that I didn't like. "Hey, doll," he smiled, and my face turned red.

"Get off me and go comb your hair or something," I replied rudely, pushing him off. Marion started laughing so hard she cried; not long after everyone in the cab was laughing. Even the cab driver, who had no idea what was going in. I guess after you get chased by three angry guys who want to kill you through a busy airport, even the little things seem funny.

As Mutt and I sat up and put out seat belts on, a new thought occurred to me. "We left our luggage at the airport," I exclaimed in shock. Indiana shrugged in the front seat.

"So? It happens all the time to us. That's why we pack lightly, and only pack things that can be replaced. I'm hoping nothing valuable was in your suitcase, Madison," he says. I cringe at the use of my real name.

"Please, just call me Madie," I say, thinking about what was in the suitcase. "I don't think I had anything important in my luggage. Just my toiletries and some clothing."

Marion nodded. "Yes, we need to go shopping for some clothes. Indiana, where are we staying in London?" she asked her husband.

"I have a friend here who I think will let us stay at his place. He owes me big time, so he better let us stay there."

"What does he owe you for, dad?" Mutt asked, combing his hair just like I had told him to.

"Ah, I just saved his life during World War II. Nothing special," Indy said, and the rest of the family nodded as if this really was nothing special. I wondered what they considered amazing if that wasn't even 'special.'

Indiana gave the cab driver his friend's address, and we arrived there shortly. "I'll go arrange things with my friend while Marion and Madie go shopping, alright? Mutt, you come with me," Indy said, paying the taxi driver. We all got out of the car quickly, and I remembered once again I didn't have any shoes.

Marion just shrugged. "I've been through worse, honey. We'll get you some new shoes first though, okay?" I nodded as we wave goodbye to the boys as we headed off towards London, England.

Indiana's friend lived about five minutes walking distance from London. My feet hurt like crazy by the time we found the first shoe store, but I was Madie. And Madie didn't complain.

Marion and I walked through the shoe store, glancing at the hundreds of different options. I stood in the centre of the store for at least ten minutes. Marion had already found a pair for herself and Indiana and bought them by the time she noticed me doing nothing. "Is anything wrong, Madison?"

I smiled. "I'm fine, Mrs. Jones. Please, just call me Madie."

"Alright, but only if you call me Marion."

"Deal," I said. "Doesn't Mutt need any shoes?" I asked, looking at the shoeboxes under her arm.

The older woman shook her head. "The boots he's wearing are the same ones he wore in Peru and Akator. They're his adventure shoes; he won't wear any other ones." I resolved to ask Mutt what Akator was later. I'm sure I would get a very long story from Marion if I asked her right now.

She went off to look at some fashionable boots while I continued to stand in the middle of the store. Why? Because Madison wanted me to go look at the heels and ballet flats, while Madie was telling me to look at the sneakers and running shoes. In the end, I picked out a pair of black converse. Madison would puke at the sight of the greaser shoes, but Madie loved them with all her heart. I wore them out of the store with a smile on my face.

Next, Marion and I went to a clothing store. She pulled a couple poodle skirts off the racks and held them up for me to see. "Madie? Do you like any of these?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I can't run in a poodle skirt. I want a pair of jeans," I said, and almost smiled at Marion's surprised expression.

"I thought preppies hated pants," she said, putting the skirts away. I nodded.

"They do. But you might have noticed, I'm not exactly your average preppy," I said, and she smiled. I grabbed a couple pairs of pants, some t-shirts (no more tight blouses!) and some jackets while Marion grabbed clothing for herself, her son and her husband. I was about to pay for the clothes when I spotted one of the Russian men who had chased us through the airport. He was outside of the store, staring right at me!

I froze, petrified, not daring to move. But apparently the man didn't see me, because he kept glancing around inside the store. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to where Marion was standing, looking through a rack of brown pants.

"Psst!" I whispered harshly, hiding inside a rack of yellow dresses. "Marion!"

She turned around and spotted my heart shaped face and my mass of limp brown curls. "Madie? What are you doing in there?"

"There's a Russian dude outside!" I hissed, and Marion immediately couched down beside me. "It's the one I threw my shoe at!" I finished.

"He's going to recognize us," Marion said, not bothering to whisper. A slow smile spread across her face. "We need disguises."

I saw what she was looking at: the numerous yellow dresses I was currently hiding in. "Whoa. I'm not wear one of these things," I said, but Marion grabbed my arm and pulled me out of my hiding place. She grabbed a yellow dress that was my size and bought it quickly, before tossing it to me.

"Put it on, Madie. I'll find something equally as hideous to wear as a disguise," she grinned, showing off her perfect white teeth.

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine," I said, trudging off to the changing rooms and taking in the shapeless, bright yellow dress I was about to put on.

xXxXx

It honestly was a hideous dress. And once Marion was done with my accessories, I looked even worse.

I looked like a librarian.

The dress was as yellow as the sun, and it was just a piece of fabric, pretending to be a dress. There was no form or shape to it whatsoever. Along with the _thing_, I wore my black converse, silver earrings, and grey glasses with thick lenses that gave me a headache. My hair was piled on top of my head in a bun, and the glasses were attached to a chain around my neck. Marion had even found a yellow flower to put in my hair.

Madison loved the dress. Madie hated it. Both girls had a serious dislike for the rest of the librarian outfit.

Marion wore something quite similar, except her dress was green. We looked so similar one would have thought she was my mother.

We bought the other clothes (the pants and t-shirts) and walked out of the store, hoping against hope that the big Russian standing outside wouldn't recognize us in the strange outfits.

He didn't. We walked right past him, and all he did was give us a tiny smile.

Even so, the entire way back to the house, Marion and I kept looking over our shoulders every couple of minutes to make sure we weren't being followed.

When we reached the house safely, Indiana opened the door cautiously, peering outside. It took him a couple minutes to recognize us in our librarian get-ups, but once he saw who it was he ushered us inside quickly.

"What the heck are you wearing?" he exclaimed, taking in the ugly dresses.

"It's just a disguise, Indy. The Russians know we're here," Marion explained.

Indiana blew some of his white hair out of his eyes. "Well, we won't be staying in London for long, so don't worry. Hopefully they'll lose us when we exit the country."

"Wait, are you saying we're going to be going somewhere else too?" I asked in disbelief.

"Of course we are, doll. Traveling with the Joneses means you get to go almost everywhere," Mutt said, entering the front hall. As soon as he saw his me and his mother, he burst out laughing so hard that he had to sit on the ground.

I glared at him, and then turned to Indy. "Is there a bathroom anywhere nearby I can change in?" He nodded and pointed to a door just down the hall.

By the time I had changed out of the ugly dress and crazy glasses, Mutt had stopped laughing. I was now wearing a pair of jeans, a blue plaid t-shirt and a pair of sunglasses, which I took off because we were inside.

It felt really strange to be wearing pants instead of a poodle skirt, but I liked it.

I saw Mutt checking me out when I left the bathroom, but I ignored it while Indiana told me that we would be staying at this place for one night. By tomorrow evening, we could probably head out.

In the meantime, Marion told us we should grab something to eat and then sleep.

"But we just slept on the plane," I said, as she smiled grimly.

"When you travel with the Joneses, sleep is a luxury we don't usually get. Therefore, whenever there's the chance to sleep, we take it right away. We can't waste a moment."

We all headed into the kitchen to grab some food, and that's when I saw who we were staying with. The man was in his fifties, had greying hair, and a limp in his step. He was also the father of my ex-boyfriend.

Which meant that his son was probably around here somewhere…

"James!" I screamed in happiness when he walked into the kitchen. I ran over to him, knocking over a chair.

"Madison? Is that you?" he smiled when I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. We both laughed. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

"We haven't talked since you moved to London two years ago," I explained. James and his father had moved to England when we were seventeen, right when he had asked me to go steady with him. Unfortunately, we had broken it off because he moved. But that didn't mean I didn't still have feelings for him.

"So you two have already met?" Indiana asked, mildly amused, as I unlocked my death grip on James.

"Yeah," I said, tucking a stray lock of brown hair behind my ear. Marion, Indiana, and James's father were smiling, but Mutt looked… angry. I don't know. His face was red, and he wouldn't look at me or James.

James was a good-looking preppy. He always wore letter sweaters, and he had been the football captain at our high school. He had a mop of perfect black hair and pale skin, and James was tall and muscular.

I shut my eyes for a minute, and shut out everything else. Madison had been James's girlfriend. Not Madie. And right now, I was Madie.

But I still had feelings for him, no matter who I was.

I introduced everyone, and then we all sat down to eat. James had so much to tell me about London, and I had just as much to tell him about our friends back home. I was gossiping like Madison, but for once I decided to let it be. She was a part of me, too.

After the meal, everyone decided to crash. There were two guest rooms. Marion and Indiana took the first one, and that's when I realized that there was only a double bed left in the second room. That meant I would have to sleep in the same bed as the greaser.

James realized this before I could say anything, and I could see by his expression that he didn't trust Mutt one bit. "Why don't you sleep in my bed, Madison? I'll sleep on the couch in the living room," he said, and I accepted his offer. He gave Mutt the death stare before we headed off to our separate rooms.

I thought I wouldn't be able to get to sleep because I had slept on the plane, but it turned out opposite that. I was in a deep slumber as soon as my head hit the pillow.

xXxXx

A/N: So... nothing really happens in this chapter. Not really. And sorry the chapters are so short; at least when they're short I can update more quickly!

Please, please review! Just tell me what I can make better, or maybe what you would like to see happen. I'm not saying it _will_ happen, but I'd like to hear what you guys think.

Seriously. Someone review. I'll give you a cookie.

What do you guys think of Madie? And am I making Mutt a little too O/C?

Well, I don't really have anything else to say. Hopefully there will be another update in a couple hours!

-Alexa (Lexi)

:P

P.S. The song at the beginning is Liberty Walk by Miley Cyrus. I take no credit. And I don't own Indiana Jones or any of the characters you may recognize.


	4. Chapter 4: Losing Grip

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 4 - _Losing Grip_

_Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby/right now I feel invisible to you, like I'm not real/Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you/Why'd you turn away, here's what I have to say_

xXxXx

Henry (Mutt) Jones III's POV

I couldn't get to sleep. That black-haired letterman, James, really ticked me off. I don't know what it was about him, but I almost couldn't stand to be in the same room as the guy.

After a couple hours of lying in bed wide awake, I got up and paced the room aimlessly. I found myself combing my hair incessantly, so I took out my stiletto knife and started playing with that instead.

I thought about the adventure. Dad hadn't explained why we were in London; for all I knew we could be here just because Indy wanted to go see Big Ben. The only thing I could figure out was that the ancient key Madie had given Indiana was important. I hadn't been able to get a good look at the key, but it looked older than time itself. And what was up with the Greek letters on the sides? Dad had mentioned that we wouldn't be staying in England. Maybe that meant we would end up going to Greece.

There was a television in the guest room. James's family must have been very rich in order to afford one of these things.

I turned it on, but didn't pay any attention to the news. I was too busy thinking about Madie.

I couldn't figure her out. She was a preppy, but she seemed to be into all the things I liked. When we were on the airplane, she had acted like my best friend. But as soon as James was within ten feet of her, she acted like a complete cube. Not the cool girl I thought she might be.

There was something wrong with James. I got a bad vibe from him. But no one would believe me if I told them that. They would think it was just more of that greaser-preppy hate.

Suddenly, a news story on the television caught my attention. The British reporter was talking about seven people racing through London's biggest airport today, wrecking havoc. I almost laughed out loud at some of the photographs they had of us. There was one in which I was jumping over someone's luggage, and another of my mother pushing a little boy out of her way. The shots were blurry enough that you couldn't make out our facial features clearly.

A photo of Madie came up. One of the Soviets was holding her by the shirt collar, and she was bashing his eye in with her heel. Maybe she wasn't a complete cube. All the preppies I knew wouldn't dream about doing something like that.

My head whipped around when I heard a scratching at my window. I shut off the television and creeped over, lifting the curtain aside. And then I found myself staring right into the eyes of one of the Soviets that had chased us.

I dropped the curtain edge and scrambled backwards. How had they found us? The house was supposed to be safe. Madie and Mom had even said that no one had followed them here. So how had we been discovered?

"Let's go, people! Everyone wake up!" I shouted loudly, running out of the room and into the hallway. I banged on every door, but I was greeted by silence from all the rooms. Running back into the living room, I spotted the nosebleed James passed out on the couch.

"Hey! Bastard! Wake up!" I said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, but he didn't move. All I got was a snore.

I shook him a couple more times, but he wouldn't wake up. I then stopped and listened to the sounds of the house around me.

Nothing.

Either no one had heard my cries, or I was in Deadsville. The latter seemed more likely at the moment.

I turned back to the black-haired boy in front of me. "Hey, nosebleed. Playing dead isn't cool," I said. "Seriously. Wake up. Those Soviets are outside."

James said nothing, just kept on waltzing through dreamland.

"_Hey!_" I yelled in his ear, but he still didn't do anything. I curled my hand into a fist and punched him right in the centre of his face.

It felt good to do that. But he didn't even wake up, even when his nose started to bleed. That's when I knew something must be seriously wrong.

Rushing into my parent's room, I saw my mom passed out on the floor. Strange. But Indiana, who wakes up at even the slightest noise, didn't stir as I tried shouting in his ear and then dragging him off the bed. I spotted another Soviet trying to break in the window. When he spotted me the man ducked out of sight, but I still knew he was still there.

I checked Dad's pulse, because for a horrifying second I wondered if everyone was dead. Nope. My father was still breathing. I scrambled into the room Madie was staying in. She wouldn't wake up either, even when I picked her up off the bed and then dropped her on the floor. Suddenly, I remembered something from earlier that night.

When we had been eating dinner, I had taken a sip of the milk poured for me, but it had tasted strange, so I hadn't drunken any more. But everyone else had drained their glasses.

Running to the kitchen, I tore open the fridge and smelt the milk. It smelled even worse than Indiana's feet.

Someone must have poisoned it. It may have been a far-fetched theory, but it was the best one I had, and the most likely. That's why no one would wake up, even though they were all still breathing. There had been a knock-out drug in the milk.

I ran into the bedroom of James's father. He was nowhere to be seen. I searched the entire house, but he was missing. A light bulb seemed to go off in my head.

James's father must have drugged the milk and told the Soviets we were here.

Could we trust no one?

I was angry. If I couldn't wake anyone up, the Soviets would capture us. I didn't even know what they wanted! In a rage, I kicked the television in my guest room, and it shattered on the floor. It made me feel a litter bit better; destroying the traitor's things. He deserved it.

I rubbed the horizontal scar on my right cheek that Irina Spalko had given me when we were sword-fighting on top of two cars in the middle of the jungles of Peru. It had become a bad habit of mine; rubbing my scar when I was upset, worried or nervous. I remembered just a couple hours ago when Madie had rubbed my scar. She had been half-asleep, and had had no idea what she was doing, but still… just the thought sent shivers up my spine.

_Madie._ Crap, I needed to do something to get her, my parents and the idiot James to safety while they were all passed out. I can't believe James's father even poisoned his own son.

I had two options: risk getting caught by dragging everybody outside to hopeful safety, or risk getting caught by hiding everybody somewhere in the house.

I chose the latter. Hopefully, someone would wake up before the Soviets broke into the house.

When I had been looking for James's father, I had noticed a small closet behind some old boxes in the upstairs attic. With some luck, I could hide the others in there.

I grabbed Madie first, as I was standing right outside her room. Carefully, I picked her up from where I dropped her on the floor. She was limp as a ragdoll, and I linked an arm around her thin waist. I walked out of her room and slung the poor girl over my back like a sack of potatoes. Her brunette curls got in the way of my vision for a moment; I couldn't see and I stumbled into a table, bumping my shinbone. Cursing rather colourfully, I picked up James on my way out of the living room.

I was careful about how I carried Madie - I made sure I didn't bump her into anything. James, on the other hand? I dragged him up the staircase by his shirt collar, and I succeeded in making sure he bumped into every pointy object in the house.

When I got to the attic, I kicked a couple boxes aside and opened the closet door slowly. Inside the closet was a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling; I pulled on the cord that turned it on. Dusty light filtered through the closet to reveal three boxes and nothing else. After dumping James unceremoniously on the floor and setting Madie gently down on one of the boxes, I ran downstairs and brought my mother up. She was harder to carry, as she wasn't quite as thin or light as Madison, and I didn't abuse her like James.

Finally, I headed downstairs to grab my father. It just so happened that at this very moment, the Soviets broke into the house.

"You!" one of them shouted in terrible English. "You are the boy with the ugly hair, correct?"

"Hey! My hair is not ugly!" I exclaimed, getting angry. No one talks about my hair that way.

"I am your worst nightmare, hair-boy," he says.

"Are you really? Because my worst nightmare is Elvis trying to seduce my mom."

The Soviet snarled. "My name is Thoratlov. Give me key."

"I don't have the key," I spat, still angry about the hair thing. "Wait," I said as two other Soviets appeared behind Thoratlov. "On second thought, I do have the key. But you're going to have to catch me," I smiled, and then turned on my heel and ran down the hallway. The three men (who seemed to be more brawn then brain) clomped after me, and I sprinted into the living room. Hanging on the wall were two swords crossed in iron plating; a decoration that I was hoping might save my life right now.

I grabbed the handle of one of the thin swords, and it slid out easily. I remembered that the only class I had ever enjoyed at school had been fencing. I was amazing at it, but during school I had slacked off because I never thought I would need to know how to fence.

Back then, I hadn't known Indiana was my father. If I had, I might have payed a bit more attention. Being a Jones means there's lots of fighting in my life.

During my trip to Akator, crossing swords with Irina Spalko had been one of the things that had saved my life. If I hadn't been good at fencing, the scar on my cheek would have been a much, much worse injury.

When I went to Peru, I learned that the world doesn't revolve around rock and roll, motorcycles and hair pomade. It had been a different experience for me; no one out there had cared whether I lived or died.

It seemed like no one here cared, either.

_Sometimes, I really love being Indiana Jones's son_, I thought as I pointed the end of the sword at my attackers.

"Ha ha! Watcha gonna do now, fellas?" I smirked.

Thoratlov reached out and grabbed the tip of the sword, ripped it out of my hands, and bent it in half, a terrifying grin on his face the entire time.

Looks like those swords really were only meant for decoration.

I leaped over the couch and ran back through the hallway, yelling the entire time. Didn't the neighbours hear me?

No. It was daytime; everyone was at work. I was alone in this thing.

Thoratlov grabbed a fistful of my prized leather jacket in his hand.

"Hey! Hands off the jacket, you dummy! You can punch my face; just take your hands off my leather!" I wasn't a greaser without my jacket and my hair grease. Those were the two things he was _not_ allowed to touch.

_Maybe I shouldn't have told him to punch my face, though_, I thought as the man's heavy fist collided with the side of my jaw. I spat out blood as he delivered another blow to my stomach.

"Where is key?" the big nosebleed asked, his two buddies now tearing apart the house looking for it. Thoratlov dropped me on the ground and started kicking me, repeating his catchphrase 'where is key' over and over again.

Blood was starting to trickle out of my nose, and I looked up just in time to see Madison stumble into the room, still half-asleep.

"Mutt? Izzat you?" she slurred, falling over and walking into a table.

I would rather she still be passed out in the closet then half-asleep and delirious, and walking right in danger's path.

"You!" Thoratlov shouted. "You are girl who threw vase at me! You have key!" he stomped over to where she was now barely standing upright, clutching onto the wall. At least the Soviet had stopped kicking me.

"Madie, duck!" I yelled, spitting through blood, but it was too late. Thoratlov punched her in the face before she could even blink.

The petit girl stumbled backwards, gasping. She clutched her forehead, where there was now a huge cut gushing blood.

At least Madison was wide awake now.

She grabbed the lamp from the table she had walked into. "Do _not_ touch me again," she exclaimed, panting and waving the vase as if it was some sort of weapon. At that moment, Thoratlov's two friends came into the room. The first Soviet was dragging my mom and James behind him, and the second had my dad. Looked like the closet wasn't such a good hiding place after all.

I got up off the floor as Thoratlov glanced at Indy and started searching through his jacket. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed, pulling a wad of brown cloth out of Indiana's pocket. "Dr. Jones has the key!" He glanced at the others. Everyone was still passed out, and James's nose was still bleeding from where I hit him. That must have been one strong drug in the milk. I couldn't believe it had been _Madie_ of all people who had woken up.

"Put them all in the car. Boss will want to meet Dr. Jones, his wife and his son," Thoratlov said, and the other Soviets started to leave. I tried to run to the door, but Thoratlov stepped in the way. "Who are you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

I sputtered, and I was about to say that I was Indy's son, when it occurred to me he thought James was Indiana's son. I opened my mouth to start yelling, when I heard a shattering noise. The man's eyes glazed over, and he fell over, unconscious. Standing behind him was Madie, holding a now shattered lamp in her hands.

The brunette dropped it in shock as if she couldn't believe what she's just done, but all she said was "that guy likes getting hit over the head with pottery."

Then she collapsed in my arms, as the drug in the milk was too strong for her to stay awake for any longer.

xXxXx

A/N: Okay, so this chapter had a little bit more action, even if it wasn't very good. Well. Things are just starting, so hopefully this story will get better!

When I first started reading Indiana Jones fanfictions, I was always wondering why Mutt had such a big part in all of them. I mean, come on. It's called and _Indiana Jones_ fanfic, not a Mutt Jones fanfic! That's when I realized that Indy is almost sixty years old. No wonder Mutt has a pretty big role. Indiana is getting old.

But, do not worry, my pretties! I think I'm going to put a _lot_ of Indy in, in the chapters to come. It's Indiana who I idolize after, not Mutt, after all! You've just got to keep reading in order to see more of Indy!

Please, please review! Somebody! I'm starting to wonder if anyone is even reading this story at all... reviews will let me know what you all think, and if you have any questions or suggestions! Also, if anyone has any ideas about what they think should happen, I'm all ears, even though I can't guarantee anything.

I'll buy you a box of cake if you review!

Lots of love  
Lexi

P.S. I own nothing but my own ideas and the characters you don't recognize. And, the song at the beginning is 'Losing Grip' by Avril Lavigne. Not me.


	5. Chapter 5: Hot Mess

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 5 - _Hot Mess_

_But you're so racy, you're my favourite guy/so unruly, so uncivilized/Cupid got me right between my eyes/you know you got me real bad, doing things that you never did_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

I had the biggest headache in the history of the world when I woke up.

The pounding and throbbing in my skull was my first warning that something was wrong. The second warning was the fact that, when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in James's room anymore. The third warning was that I was lying on the couch in the living room, and the house looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

Everything that hadn't been destroyed was a mess. Upon spotting a shattered lamp on the floor, some memories of the previous night - day? - came flooding back. Not many memories, though. Mostly, everything was blurry.

I breathed in deeply, but all I could smell was leather. Wondering why, I sat up. For some reason, I was wearing Mutt's leather jacket. It was warm and smelled just like him, and I couldn't help but smile. Mere months ago, I had been dreaming about this.

Of course, in those dreams Mutt hadn't been sitting at the dining room table with his head in his hands. I got up to go and see what was wrong, but as soon as I was standing I fell over, effectively knocking a picture frame off a table. Mutt looked up at the noise as I picked myself up from the ground and tried to stand again.

He was by my side in seconds, helping me stand. For some reason, my legs felt like jelly. He walked me over to the dining room table and sat me down in a chair right beside his.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding honestly worried. I tried to speak, but my throat felt like it was filled with cotton-balls. Looking at him helplessly, I noticed the bruises and cuts all over his face and arms.

I felt a little ashamed to admit that Mutt looked even hotter than normal when he was all beat up.

Without the leather jacket on, I noticed his amazingly-muscled arms. I started when he reached for my face, but stopped moving and held perfectly still when he took my head in his hands.

Mutt rubbed his thumb over my forehead, and when he took his finger away there was blood. I looked at him quizzically, and he helped me walk over to a mirror in the bathroom.

I gasped when I saw my reflection. There was a lump on my forehead the size of an orange, and said lump had a huge gash in it that was oozing blood. I had a black eye and a bruised and bloodied lip, but otherwise I looked fine (if you ignored the other multiple bruises on my face). I grabbed a towel from the bathroom counter and wiped all the blood away, but it didn't make me look any better. Mutt stood behind me, looking at his own wounds in the mirror as he retold the story of what had happened a couple hours ago with the crazy Russians. _Stupid communists_, I thought. He finished by telling me I had knocked out one of the Soviets over the head with a lamp, but the man had awoken before Mutt could tie him up or do anything of the sort. He had gotten away.

Mutt handed me a glass of water, which I drank quickly. After that, I could talk again.

This first thing I told him was that I couldn't remember anything but blurry shapes from the fight. He nodded and explained his theory about the drugged milk.

"Yeah, it did taste kind of funny," I agreed. "What happened to Indiana and Marion?"

Judging from the expression on Mutt's face, I could tell what he was about to say couldn't be good. "They were kidnapped, along with James."

I spat out some blood into the sink. Maybe Indy had been right when he told me I wasn't cut out for this stuff. I hadn't been counting on fist fights and kidnapping when I had said I had wanted to come with the Jones.

Well, I was already in this thing, and I needed to get out. I had no idea what Indiana had been planning on doing here in England, but I knew that Mutt and I needed to find him if we wanted to save not only my uncle, but Mutt's entire family.

"Alright, Henry," I said, walking out of the bathroom. "We need to find your parents. Any idea where the Russians went?" I asked, twirling one of my curls around my finger.

"Don't call me Henry, _Madison,_" he said, spitting out my name. Mutt was in a really bad mood.

"Alright. I'm sorry, Henry," I retorted.

"Don't push it, Clarke," he threatened. Normally, I would have shut up right away after I saw the violent glint in his eyes, but I had just been drugged and punched in the face. I wasn't going to be back to normal for a little while.

"How long ago did the Russians come here, Henry?" I asked him.

Mutt growled and lurched forward, pushing me up against the wall of the living room. He placed his hands on the wall, on either side of my head, breathing hard. The greaser pressed his forehead against mine and fixed me with his brown-eyed stare.

I had no idea what to do.

My boyfriend never acted like this. Mutt was being rebellious and violent, but I liked it. It made me feel scared and a little hot on the inside.

That was the first time I really looked deeper into Mutt's eyes.

He hid so much inside: His constant worry over his parents. His longing to be accepted and to be loved. His pain at seeing the people he cared about being abused. His loneliness. His need to fit in.

Oh God, I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to kiss him and take all his pain, sadness and loneliness away, and make everything better. I wanted to make Mutt forget about the rest of the world, and I wanted him to be happy.

"I said, don't push it, Clarke," he breathed, his voice husky. His warm breath on my lips sent shivers everywhere in my body as he lifted my chin with his finger, and pressed his body against mine. For one hopeful instant, I thought _he_ was going to kiss _me_.

But he stepped away from the wall and backed up, pulling out his knife and flipping it around in his hands; tossing it into the air. He walked into the kitchen, leaving me alone.

No one had ever made me feel the way Mutt Jones made me feel. I loved it. It seemed like a dangerous and passionate monster, pulling at its chains and wanting to wreck havoc and break free. I knew that Madison would want to go barf in a toilet right now. But Madie? Madie wanted to let the monster out. She wanted more of Mutt.

I slumped down onto the floor. Neither girl was going to have what she wanted anytime soon. I didn't even know if Mutt liked me that way. He was acting like a greaser, not Mutt. So who knows if he had wanted to kiss me, too?

I pushed all thoughts of Mutt out of my mind. We had a rescue mission to focus on.

My eyes scanned the floor, which was littered with debris. Something white caught my eye, and I crawled over to it and picked it up. It was a piece of notepad paper, and scribbled on it in unfamiliar writing was the address _504 Cast Street, London, England_.

"Mutt?" I called out, and he popped his head full of greased brown hair into the living room.

"What, Madie?" he asked, still annoyed and tired.

"I think I've found something." He strolled over to where I was sitting and grabbed the paper out of my hands. After reading it over a couple times, he looked at me.

"This may just be some random address, but it's our only lead so far. Come on, let's get you changed, doll. Then we're going to town to see if we can get directions."

xXxXx

Mutt and I strolled down the sidewalk, earning strange looks from the other people on the street. Mutt looked fine: his signature leather jacket, black boots, and a biker hat sitting crookedly on his head to obscure some of the bruises.

I still looked a mess, though. I hadn't been able to find the clothing Marion and I had bought, and the jeans I had been wearing had been soiled beyond recognition, so I was back to wearing my tight blouse and poodle skirt. At least I still had the black Converse on my feet.

All the same, the wound on my head was still bleeding, and my lips were split, bleeding and swollen. Mutt had stolen one of James's letter sweaters, and I was wearing that to keep out the September cold and to cover the bruises on my arms. But I didn't get a hat like Mutt, so the wounds on my face were still plain as day. My hair was tangled and looked like a rat's nest.

Just as we were nearing town, a car pulled up beside us on the street. I jumped, thinking it was a Russian, but it was simply a blonde preppy boy about the same age as me.

"Miss? Is everything alright?" he asked me, glancing at Mutt pointedly.

I realized what he was really saying at about the same time as the greaser beside me.

"Hey, you-" Mutt started angrily, about to jump forwards, but I stuck my arm out to hold him back.

"Don't move," I told him, looking him in the eye. He mumbled something that I really don't want to repeat, and I turned back to the preppy in the car.

It had occurred to Mutt and me what it would seem like to passer-bys: I mean, come on. I was walking beside I greaser, I was dressed like a preppy and I looked like I had just been beat up. What were people going to think?

"I'm fine, sir, but can you tell me where 504 Cast Street is?" I asked him.

The blonde frowned. "Are you sure you don't want me to get the police, Miss?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I snapped, suddenly fed up with everyone. "Now, if you aren't going to be kind enough to give me directions, then I'll just be on my way."

"Miss, I can tell from your accent that you're not from around here, so I'm going to warn you that Cast Street is not the kind of place you should be going. It's the hideout of killers and thieves. A very dangerous place."

Ah. So we probably were on the right track. I could bet my left arm that was where the Russians had taken everyone. "I don't care. Just tell me how to get there," I said in a clipped voice. The jock motioned for me to come closer, and after giving Mutt another look that said _stay here_, I leaned in the window of the greaser's car.

He whispered, "Don't worry, Miss. I sent my friend to get the police. Just hop in my car and I can drive you away before that greaser does any more harm to you. Then the police can arrest him."

I punched the dirty letterman in the face.

Behind me, I heard Mutt laughing while the preppy recoiled in shock. "Are you. Going to. Tell me. How to. Get there. Or not?" I grumbled as the blonde boy rubbed his now bleeding nose. I smiled angelically, as if I would never do something like hit him. It looked like being around Mutt the greaser was really starting to rub off on me.

The jock opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment someone grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back. "Madie. The cops are here. If you don't want us both to be sent to the can, doll, I suggest we get out of here," Mutt's voice whispered in my ear.

I twisted in his arms and found myself nose-to-nose with the boy. The smell of grease and leather was so strong I almost wanted to melt into him, but instead I just pushed him away. "How do you propose we do that, Jones?"

He smiled and pointed to a motorcycle parked on the curb, ours for the taking. I grinned as he jumped on it and hot-wired the engine.

"Get on!" he shouted, twisting around in his seat to stare at me. God, he looked really hot on that motorcycle.

I hopped on, and we peeled out of the parking lot, tires screaming as two police cars roared up behind us with their sirens blaring.

I grinned. The chase was on.

xXxXx

I'm not joking when I say the chase was on. The police cars were hot on our heels, and so was the blonde letterman's car. I didn't really know why he was following us, but I had two guesses: One, he was angry at me for punching him and he wanted revenge, and two, he thought he was doing his civil duty by trying to capture us. Even though I was a little bit angry at Mutt, I still wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my chest tightly against his back. I could feel him breathing heavily.

I shut my eyes as the motorcycle flew down the street. My hair was being whipped around, but I didn't think it could get any messier than it already was.

It was my first motorcycle ride, and in that very first instant I knew I would never be able to ride in a car again. There's nothing that compares to the rush of cold air on your skin, and you don't have to be boxed in by the sides of a car. How could people drive around in those clunky things? They couldn't sneak around other cars and go through gaps and spaces like motorbikes. I had never tasted the clean, crisp air like I was doing now. Riding on a motorcycle somehow made me feel more... powerful.

We reached a traffic jam in the middle of the road. It was a complete stand-still, and I knew we'd be caught by the police, who were mere meters behind us. But, to my surprise (and many pedestrian's surprises), Mutt drove the motorcycle right up onto the sidewalk. People screamed and dove for cover as we raced along, knocking things over. The bike jostled and bumped us around on the uneven pavement.

I turned around in my seat and spotted three police motorcycles and the jock's car following us on the sidewalk.

"Mutt!" I turned around again and yelled in his ear. "We've got company!"

He urged the bike to go faster, and it groaned under the extra speed. I knew that Mutt was wishing he had his own bike from home; I had seen it go three times the speed as this one.

Mutt turned the corner so sharply that the motorcycle leaned and almost fell over; I screamed as my knee and my foot scraped against the pavement. Great. Now my knee was bleeding, too.

The sirens of the police bikes were slowly getting louder as Mutt turned the corner again. I started yelling as I realized we were heading down a set of stairs; the motorbike almost tipped over as we flew down them, but it didn't. I turned around to see two of the three police motorists following us; one of them actually did flip end-over-end. The driver was thrown from the bike as it crashed into a wall and exploded. I cringed.

"Are they still following us?" Mutt yelled back at me.

"Uh… sort of. There's one motorbike and - aw, dammit! The letterman is still on our tail!" I cried as I watched the absolutely livid blonde boy drive his car down the staircase. Turning back to look ahead again, I saw the two police cars that had previously been following us. One was heading for us from the left; the other from the right. Pointing them out to Mutt, I saw him smile grimly.

"Hold tight, Madie. Things might get ugly," he said. I wrapped my arms around him tighter as Mutt headed straight for them.

I opened my mouth to scream, but we slipped between the two cars at the last moment. The cop cars collided into each other, and we were afforded a little bit of time as the remaining motorbike and jock had to make their way around the crashed vehicles.

I felt Mutt shake with laughter beneath me, and I started giggling too. But not for long. Our eyes widened as a black car suddenly cut off our path. It had seemed to come out of nowhere; Mutt jerked the handlebars a second before it was too late. We missed hitting the side of the car by a hair.

As we raced away, I saw the other car start to burn rubber and race after us. Another black car followed close behind.

I didn't recognize the driver, but I recognized the language he was yelling in.

_Russian._

"Mutt! There are two Russian cars following us!" I yelled, twisting to look at them again.

Watching in horror, I saw two men lean out of the windows of the first car with machine guns in their hands. Two more men leaned out of the second black car with pistols of some sort.

"_MUTT!_ Doesn't this thing go any _FASTER?_" I shrieked as machine gun fire suddenly erupted beside us. He turned sharply again, and we raced onto the campus of a college much like the one I went to school at. Students everywhere went running and screaming for their lives; papers and books lay scattered on the ground. Two black cars and one motorcycle followed us. For a couple brief seconds, I wondered what had happened to the letterman, but I pushed it out of my mind.

We tore through the college, engines screaming. I caught sight of the main road and thought Mutt was going to turn back onto it, but instead he drove the motorcycle right into the hallways of the school! People were yelling at us as we ripped around corners and entered the library, where Mutt somehow managed to knock over every bookshelf in the place. Finally, we exited onto the main road, but it seemed so much more dangerous. There were many more cars to avoid.

Mutt realized this as we passed the parliament buildings, and he swerved onto the grounds. I saw horrified faces glancing out of windows, but I didn't care. All I was trying to do was urge Mutt to go faster.

We passed Big Ben, and the huge clock tower was a blur as we sped by. It chimed cheerfully that it was three o'clock in the afternoon.

More bullets rained down as we raced down side alleys. We were just barely missing getting shot. I glanced back - the Soviets and the police bike were still following us. And the motorcycle that hadn't come after us down the first staircase was now hot on our heels, too. I gave Mutt an update of the situation as three more police cars roared after us, sirens screaming and lights blazing, as we sped onto a busier street. How many people wanted to chase us?

Five minutes later, Mutt zoomed past the Tower of London. "You know, when your dad said we were going to England, I had wanted to do a little sightseeing. This is not how I imagined it would be happening," I yelled in Mutt's ear, earning a chuckle from the boy.

We headed towards the famous London Bridge. I watched in fear as Mutt drove off the road and headed right towards the river. Two police cars and one motorcycle were so close behind us I could have reached out and touched one of them. But just as we were about to lurch into the river, Mutt jerked the handlebars to the side and we instead went bouncing up onto London Bridge, while three of the vehicles chasing us plunged into the river.

"You never cease to amaze me, Jones," I said into his ear. This time, he just smiled.

"It's what I'm best at, Clarke."

We cut across traffic lines and caused a couple cars to collide when we raced across London Bridge. But the chaos we had created was so severe that only the two Soviet cars and the remaining motorbike could follow us through. The last police car was finally gone.

People were honking and yelling at us as we raced off the bridge, still going full throttle. I would do this any day with Mutt, if only we weren't being shot at.

A bullet just missed the side of my head as we flew past the London dungeons, and I screamed. Mutt turned the motorcycle around in a full 180 degrees and we rode straight towards the cars coming towards us.

"What the hell are you thinking?" I shrieked, but it looked like Mutt knew what he was doing. It took the Soviets a little while to turn around and come after us once we had passed them, and by the time they were racing after us again we were out of shooting range.

Mutt rode up onto the sidewalk again, and more pedestrians screamed as we almost ran them over. I cried out and buried my face in the back of Mutt's leather jacket as he drove us right down the staircase into the famed underground tunnel! I could hardly hear people yelling over my own shrieks as we rode right through the turnstiles and onto the platform where people were waiting for the subway, which wasn't here at the moment. The police cycle bounded down the stairs after us, followed closely by the Soviet cars.

I looked at Mutt, who had a rather crazy look in his eyes.

I didn't have time to even open my mouth to scream as we rode right onto the subway tracks. The police bike stopped, and the man on it shook his head at the amazingly stupid thing we were doing. But both cars followed us onto the tracks.

"Pray that we're not going to run into any subways!" Mutt yelled as he gunned the engine and we raced along down the dark tunnel. I was mostly scared about the fact we couldn't see anything, rather than the fact we were being chased by men with guns.

Mutt was relying completely on touch-and-feel, and his sense of hearing. I just closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of his leather jacket. If I was going to die right now, I wanted to die with his smell still in my mind.

The gunfire ceased for a minute, and I turned around to see a subway coming up right behind us. One of the black cars wasn't fast enough, as the subway crashed right into it. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't help it. The car shattered to pieces and the men inside it were ripped apart by the force of the speeding subway. Debris flew everywhere.

One more down. One still to go, I thought, thinking about anything but the body parts I had just witnessed flying everywhere.

Bright light blinded my eyes as we entered the next underground terminal. People screamed as Mutt led the motorcycle onto the platform, through the turnstiles and up yet another flight of stairs.

The sun was blinding as we gunned it down the road. I was just turning around to see if the Soviet car had followed us and made it out of the underground, when I felt a hand grab a fistful of James's preppy jacket that I was wearing.

The black Soviet car pulled up beside the motorcycle, and a man was leaning out the window, trying to pull me off the bike!

"_Mutt!_" I shrieked as I fell off the bike sideways - sort of. I still had one leg over the seat, but half of my body was suspended in the air between the two vehicles. I clutched frantically at Mutt's leather jacket, trying to find something to hold on to. The man who was holding a bunch of my jacket fabric grabbed my hair, too, and tried to drag me into his black sedan.

Suddenly, their car lurched away from the motorcycle and the jacket fell off, and I would have fallen onto the road and gotten run over if I hadn't grabbed the edge of the black car's window, which was open.

Mutt, eyes still on the road, reached out one hand and grabbed my blouse. My shirt had become untucked from my skirt, and I was showing a fair bit of stomach skin. But the greaser had grabbed the part of the blouse which covered my chest. One of the buttons had popped, and he had found a handhold.

Completely oblivious that he was practically groping me, Mutt dragged me back onto the cycle. I was just glad to be a little further from the black Russian car and a little closer to the motorcycle.

Straightening up, I glanced behind us. The Russians were still on our heels, and they had the guns out again.

I ducked as bullets flew towards us, but Mutt suddenly cried out in surprise as a red car driven by a blonde preppy with blood trickling from his nose blocked our path.

I thought we were done for. It was either crash into the letterman's car (it looked like he had finally found us), or eat lead. But, knowing Mutt, I knew he would choose neither.

I felt Mutt reach an arm around my thin waist, and hold me to his side tightly. Then he launched us both from the motorcycle, kicking it out from under us. We were thrown about forty feet before we hit the pavement and slid, and Mutt twisted his body so that I landed on top of him and he received the full force of the impact. I watched our motorcycle and the Soviet's car crash into the jock's car, and the motorcycle exploded while the letterman's car started to flip and roll.

Mutt and I finally stopped sliding on the pavement, and I rolled off him and leaned over the greaser on my knees.

"Mutt?" I choked out, and realized for the first time I was crying. Mutt's eyes were closed. Had our fall been so bad that he had been killed while trying to protect me?

"Mutt, please, wake up," I sobbed, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Mutt, come on! Wake up! Don't leave me, Mutt, please. I need you."

I almost stopped breathing when he slowly opened his eyes and grinned up at me.

"What's wrong, doll? Did you think I would leave you that easily?"

"You… you... sonofabitch," I mumbled and ran the words together, realizing that he had been faking the whole 'passing out' thing the entire time. It had been his leather jacket that had saved him; leather makes you slide, and it can't be ripped as easily as other fabric. If he had been wearing a preppy jacket, it would have been ripped and he would have been killed. I thanked God that Mutt was a greaser.

Adrenaline coursed in my veins, and the 'fight or flight' part of me took over. Mutt jumped up and grabbed my hand, pulling me along behind him. "That damned preppy knew we were going to Cast Street. That's how he figured out we would come here, baby," Mutt said, pointing to a street sign that told us we had reached our destination.

I heard even more police sirens, but they were distant. Even so, Mutt and I needed to get away from the crash site. Still holding my hand, we ran down Cast Street together, looking for house 504.

xXxXx

A/N: Yay! More action! Even though it wasn't _really_ action... but whatever.

As I said before, I promise lots of Indy stuff. Just not yet. So, hang on, people!

Mutt calls Madie Doll and Babe lots, but that doesn't mean he likes her. It's just something people called each other in the fifties; typical greaser slang. Like how I call my friends noobs. Except, doll and baby would be compliments. Noob isn't a compliment. Whatever; I think you get what I mean.

I keep alternating between saying 'Soviet' and 'Russian' but the Russians _were_ Soviets in the fifties, so I hope nobody minds. Sorry about all the changes in the names, though. Just remember they sort of mean the same thing.

I promise you guys that I'm going to finish this story. I've read at least 100000 Indiana Jones fanfictions that never finish, because the authors get bored or something and slack off. Well. I'm going to finish this story; It's going to have a real ending! Yay!

Okay, I'll admit it. I haven't read _that_ many fanfics. I'm just trying to get my point across.

This chapter was longer then the other chapters! Yay! Maybe all the chapters will start getting longer... ;)

By the way, Cast Street isn't real.

A huge thanks to _merlincrazy_ for reviewing! You're my first reviewer and it makes me happy! but to all you others...

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! Seriously! Is anyone reading this besides merlincrazy? I would hope so, but right now I'm not so sure... reviews make me happy! I mean, sure, It's easy to just click on the 'follow' button, but is it that much harder to type in a comment? It's a much prettier button!

I don't own Indiana Jones (sadly) or anything related to him. All the characters you may recognize are not mine. I only own my own ideas, Madie, and some of the other people who aren't from the Indiana Jones universe!

The song at the beginning is Hot Mess by Ashley Tisdale. Yeah, I know I've already used one of her songs for a chapter title, but these songs both sort of describe some of the things that happen in those chapters. So. Yep.

Thanks for reading, and please R&R!

3 Lexi :P


	6. Chapter 6: Amnesia

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 5 – _Amnesia_

_I get amnesia when I'm standin' next to you/he's been with me for several years I know this much is true/didn't know it was over, 'til you came on over/and told me that you just, just can't forget about me_

xXxXx

House 504 wasn't actually a house; the word warehouse would describe it better. Mutt knocked on the door, and it swung upon on its own accord. We stepped into the warehouse and entered a huge room in which gathered the biggest bunch of criminals I had ever seen.

And Mutt thought _he_ was tough. Compared to these guys, he looked like a baby kitten.

Mutt had dropped my hand when we entered the place, but I reached out and grabbed his again. I wasn't even this scared when the Soviets had been shooting at us, but these men looked like they wouldn't think twice about killing someone. Just the touch of Mutt's hand now gave me a slight bit of comfort.

I watched Mutt. He stayed low and led me over to the wall of the room, where we inched along it, looking for something that might lead us to Indiana and the others. The greaser by my side slid out his stiletto knife and kept it in his hand, just in case something bad happened.

We stayed in the shadows, but even so a couple men noticed us. About three of them wolf-whistled at me, while one even had the nerve to shout out something about 'having a little fun in the back room later.' If I though Mutt was dangerous, these men were - well, words couldn't describe it. I was positive half of them wanted to kill me and the other half wanted to rape me.

I stayed glued to Mutt's side. He folded me closer to him and gave me his leather jacket to wear. I put it on and breathed in deeply. I just couldn't get enough of the way Mutt smelled.

He wrapped his arms tighter around me and we walked to the back of the warehouse. I couldn't help but notice his muscles flexing whenever someone looked at us, as if he was getting ready to fight. God, he had amazing muscles.

Most of the men in the warehouse were playing cards, poker, or betting on some other type of game. Some were wrestling, and others were working out. It was dark and smelly in the place, and it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. While I was choking on some of the smoke from people's cigarettes, Mutt leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"I think you should go hide somewhere outside, doll. This place is dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt. I can handle this myself."

I straightened up and looked Mutt in the eye, which was a little bit difficult considering he was a head taller than me. "I'm coming with you, dummy. We're in this together."

He shook his head. "Do you see any other girls like you in here, babe? No. You need to get somewhere safer."

"Okay, Henry. Enough with the stupid preppy stereotypes. I've already proved I can take care of myself!"

"One, don't call me Henry. Two, I'm not saying it because you're a preppy. I'm saying it because it's honesty not safe for you in here at all, babe."

"I'm fine," I stomped my foot, not looking at him. My eyes roamed over the crowd. Suddenly, I spotted two of the Soviets who had been at James's house. "Gimme your hat," I grumbled, snatching Mutt's biker hat off his head.

Hoping I was almost unrecognizable in the leather jacket, hat and the blood and grime all over my face, I walked over to the two men.

"Madie, what the hell?" Mutt reached after me, but I avoided his hands. I had something to prove. I could handle things in here just fine.

I sat down heavily in a chair opposite the two Russians, and leaned over the table to speak with them without being overheard. "I'll make you boys a deal," I started, keeping my voice low so they wouldn't figure out who I was. Luckily, neither of the men here were Thoratlov.

"I challenge one of you to a drinking contest. Whoever can drink the most shots of hard liquor wins," I smiled under the brim of my hat.

"What are the winnings?" the bigger of the two asked.

"If you win, you can 'have' me, if you know what I mean," I winked, sitting back and letting the leather jacket fall open to reveal my partially torn blouse. One of the disgusting nosebleeds actually licked his lips.

"And if I win," I said, leaning across the table again, "you have to tell me the whereabouts of Indiana Jones and the others."

The Soviet men looked at each other in consideration. Those were pretty high stakes if they lost. I'm pretty sure they would be in huge trouble if they told me where Indy was.

I leaned back again and unbuttoned a little bit more of my blouse, letting a little more cleavage show. Although it disgusted me to do this, I needed to find out where Mutt's family was.

Speaking of Mutt, he was currently making his way towards the table where I was at, looking at me with a mixture of 'what the hell are you doing' and 'you are in a heap of trouble' expressions on his face.

"Deal," the biggest Soviet finally said, grinning and showing me his missing teeth. He pulled his chair closer to the table, and ordered his friend to go get us a couple rounds of drinks.

Mutt made it over to the table I was at, and he tried to drag me out of my chair, but I wouldn't move. The greaser leaned down and lightly touched his lips to my ear, whispering. "What the freaking hell do you think you're doing?" he growled, angry.

Whoops. I didn't really want Mutt to be angry at me again.

Even so, I couldn't let any weakness show. "Sit down, will you? We're having a drinking contest."

He frowned and looked at me sceptically. "Doll, have you ever even had _one_ drink in your entire life?"

"Yes," I rolled my eyes. But that was a lie. I'd never tried drinking before. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped…

Well, it was too late. The Soviet who had been sent to find us some drinks came back with an entire tray full of shot glasses filled to the brim with golden brown liquid. There were quite a few men following behind him, already placing bets on who was going to win.

"We need to get out of here now, baby. Before you get too deep into this and I can't get you out," Mutt said, but I ignored him. The boy had no faith in me. I needed to teach him a lesson.

Hopefully that lesson wasn't going to be 'leave Madie behind at all costs because she only messes things up.'

The Soviet across from me, whose name was Balk, took the first shot. He downed it easily, and then turned the glad upside down and placed it on the table to prove that it really was empty. Out if the corner of my eye I saw Mutt doing two things: one, pulling out his comb and sitting back in his chair, finally deciding to just watch, and two, checking me out. I clutched his leather jacket tighter around me; I _was_ showing an awful lot of skin.

I grabbed a shot glass and drank the brown liquid. Well. I think it was safe to say I had never tasted anything quite like that in my entire life. It was like a mini firework exploding down my throat and through my body; the liquor made everything seem brighter. I turned the shot glass upside down and set it on the table with a loud _thunk_. Oh yes. I was ready for this.

xXxXx

Twelve shot glasses later, I was no longer ready for this. I swear that if I had another shot, I would pass out. The Soviet man was still going strong, though. I could only hope he felt worse than he looked.

A couple of the men had started to realize that I was almost out of it, and they were starting to make some moves. I felt a hand go up on the inside of my skirt, and I jumped, knocking over some of the empty glasses on the table. Mutt leaped out of his seat and gave every man in the room a look that could kill, before sitting down slowly. I found it kind of sweet that he was protecting me like that.

Almost everyone in the warehouse was now watching our little drinking competition. Sadly, most men were betting on the Soviet to win.

He drank another shot; I barely sipped at mine, but somehow got it all down. He drank another; I gulped one more. The fireworks were becoming more painful now, and the room was spinning. I was going to pass out soon; I just knew it.

The Soviet sitting across the table from me was grinning maniacally. He thought he had won this. He was probably right.

The man picked up another shot with his shaking hand. There was an evil glint in his eye as he lifted it to his lips and gulped down every last drop. I felt my eyelids start to close just looking at the next glass I needed to drink; my head teetered on my neck, about to sink into blackness.

Suddenly, I felt a cold hand on my waist. I jerked wide awake, thinking it was another creeper, but I was surprised to find Mutt, gentle picking me up and lifting out of my seat. He sat in my chair and then placed me on his lap; I leaned my head back and breathed in the strong smell of his hair grease. It woke me up a bit.

"C'mon, baby. You can do this. You need to do this," he whispered in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me closer to him. I grabbed another shot, tilted my head back, and dumped the brown liquid down my throat. Cheers erupted from the men; shouts of anger from the criminals who thought this would be the glass that would make me pass out.

Mutt was the only thing keeping me awake now. His thumbs traced patterns on my stomach skin just like they had on the airplane, and he whispered encouragement in my ear. I smiled at the sound of his voice.

The Soviet drank another shot. I downed another. He took one more. I finished one more glass. The burly man sitting across from me looked queasy now, as he sipped at another glass. I rested my head on Mutt's shoulder for a moment, breathing deeply. He kissed me gently on the forehead, and I sat up straight unexpectedly.

Mutt Jones had just kissed me on the forehead, and I was sitting on his lap. Not even weeks ago, I was doing this with my boyfriend, minus the drinking part. But with Mutt, it seemed so much more special. So... _different_.

It crossed my mind fleetingly that I was sort of cheating on my boyfriend. But honestly? At that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

Mutt picked up another shot of hard liquor and put it in my hand. I sipped the warm drink, and it didn't seem to burn as much anymore.

My vision was blurry, but I saw the Soviet clearly. He picked up one last shot and held it to his lips, hand shaking. The man tipped his head back and let the liquor dribble down his throat. Damn it. He was able to drink another one.

Or not. The man set the glass on the table slowly, and I heard cheers, when suddenly he tipped over in his chair and fell on the floor, passed out cold.

The entire warehouse went silent for a moment, before the men watching the competition started yelling and cheering. I had won!

Mutt snatched the money I had won off the table before anybody could steal it, but then he wrapped his arms around me again and rocked me back and forth. I sighed and smiled; Mutt kissed my neck and said something I couldn't quite catch. Whatever it was, it had to do with me winning.

He stood up but kept a hand on my waist, knowing I would black out on the floor without him there.

We walked over to the unconscious man's Russian buddy, who was trying to get the man to wake up. I sank to my knees beside them.

"Where's Indiana Jones?" I said, but it came out more like "Wherrrrzzz Innn Diana Joonezz?" I couldn't even talk straight with that much alcohol in my system. Mutt came to the rescue, though; he and the Soviet exchanged a few quick words before Mutt picked me up and carried me honeymoon-style to the back to the warehouse. In my drunken stupor, I started wondering if Mutt and I would ever have a honeymoon.

I started giggling uncontrollably as Mutt started to climb a staircase, still holding my in his arms. He glanced down at me.

"Look, doll, I know you're drunk, but can you at least try to be quiet?" he whispered.

"Okie-dokie, Mister Jones sir!" I said, mock saluting him and giggling. He rolled his eyes, but I shut up.

Mutt set me on the floor when we reached the top of the staircase, and snuck around a corner. I heard the sounds of a fight going on somewhere, but I couldn't have cared less. I was a snake.

I slithered through the jungle grass of Africa. Wait, did snakes live in Africa? Oh, well. I did.

Sliding on the floor of the upper level of the warehouse on my belly, the carpeted floor scraped against my chest. I looked down to find Mutt's leather jacket still on me. I should probably give it back to him.

I slithered down the hall to where the fight sounds were coming from, right in the middle of the hallway. Mutt was fist-fighting with two men who were much, much bigger than him. One of the men had a gun.

Now, I was a poisonous snake. I snuck up behind a rhino, slithering silently through the African grass. I stuck my bum in the air, and then lunged, biting the rhino in the ankle, letting my poison seep through my fangs and into his foot.

"What the hell? This girl just bit me!" the rhino yelled, starting to swear in rhino-language - I mean Russian.

"Aw, crap. Doll, you're drunk. Stay behind the wall!" a lion wearing a gray t-shirt said, looking at me angrily. I hissed at him, baring my snake-fangs. I then turned and bit the rhino again, and he dropped his horn.

I picked it up and looked at the back of it. It was long, and black, and hollow…

"Shit! Madie, babe, let go of the gun. Aw, c'mon, you're even pointing it towards yourself!" the lion roared.

I giggled, and turned it around in my hands. Suddenly it was a pistol. I pointed it at the rhino, who was staring at me with his hands in the air.

I pulled the trigger, and a loud noise echoed through the hallway. I dropped the gun and covered my ears; the shot had been ear-splittingly loud, and it was now banging around in my head, ricocheting off the walls of my skull. The rhino dropped in front of me, dead. I saw the lion in the gray t-shirt punch a giraffe in the face; the giraffe was knocked out and he fell on the ground.

Unexpectedly, I was no longer a snake. I was Madie, lying on the floor with my hands over my ears. I had just shot a Soviet guard, and Mutt had knocked out the other one.

The lion/Mutt helped me to my feet. I was shivering uncontrollably, but I shrugged out of Mutt's leather jacket and handed it to him. "Here you go," I slurred, but he put it back on me. It was a heavy jacket that made my shoulders sag. Or maybe my shoulders were sagging because it was too big. All the same, the jacket was too large for me and the leather was rather heavy.

I was still shaking, and now the world tilted sharply to the right. I started to fall over, but Mutt grabbed me and held me upright. "Steady there, baby. We need to get everyone and then get out of here quickly. There's not much time." He opened one of the doors that lined the hallway, slowly poking his head in. After making sure there were no guards inside, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room after him.

Inside the dark room, I could just barely make out four shapes sitting hunched over on the floor. One of them was wriggling around.

Like a snake.

Whoa. Wait a minute. No more snake business for me.

Mutt made me sit down on the floor, and pulled out his stiletto knife. He cut the bonds of the struggling figure and removed the gag.

"Henry, there's a light switch beside the door," a familiar voice said. I reached up and flicked it on the reveal Mutt standing over his mother, Marion.

She grabbed her son's hands and pulled him down beside her, taking his face in her hands and wiping some of the blood and dirt off. "Oh, Henry, my baby, you're alright!" she gasped, tears coming to her eyes.

"Mom," he complained while she smushed his face and rubbed his hair.

Finally, she let him go and he went to remove his dad's bonds. "How did you guys find us?" Indiana asked once his gag was removed.

"It's a long story," Mutt smiled grimly.

"You two look like absolute wrecks. What happened?" Marion asked, looking at me.

"Let's just say that if you read the newspaper tomorrow and the cover story is 'two teens on a motorcycle destroy half on London,' that wasn't us," Mutt winked.

Marion crawled over to me and placed her hand against my forehead. "Oh, honey, you're burning up. Are you alright?" she asked me, really worried.

"Mom, don't-" Mutt started, working on the third person's bonds, but it was too late.

"I'm a sssnakkkke," I slurred, titling my head to look at the parrot in front of me sideways.

"Mutt, what did you do to her?" Marion demanded.

"I didn't do anything! Why does everyone always blame me? It was her choice to end up like that!" he said, moving to work on the fourth person's bonds. Wait, four people? I thought there were only three?

I had no time to think about that, though, because all of a sudden James launched himself at me and cradled me in his arms. "Oh my God, Madison. Are you alright? What happened?" he said, brushing my hair back from my sweaty and sticky forehead. I crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.

I didn't miss Mutt's look of anger and jealousy towards James, though.

Mutt had finally finished setting the fourth person free. "There's a fire escape out this window," he said, "and we should go now. Before the guard that Madie didn't shoot wakes up, or before the Soviets call for backup."

As if on cue, I heard banging on the door. Marion leaped up and locked it from the inside just in time.

"I'll carry him," Indiana said, pointing to the unconscious fourth person. "Marion, you lead the way. I'll follow. James, carry Madison. Mutt, bring up the rear."

"What?" Mutt exclaimed. "Why does James get to carry Madie?"

Indy sighed. "We don't really have time for this right now, Junior. Just do as I say."

Mutt glared, but said nothing except "don't call me Junior."

Marion opened the window as more yells came from outside the door. Mrs. Jones climbed out the window and jumped down to the fire escape. "The coast is clear," she yelled up to Indy, who then climbed awkwardly out of the window with the mysterious fourth person in his arms.

"Madison, why are you wearing the greaser's hat and jacket?" James suddenly asked, curling his lip in disgust. He took them both off me and threw them rather roughly to Mutt.

"_The greaser_ has a name," Mutt snorted angrily.

I missed Mutt's smell and heavy leather around my shoulders already. Plus, I was cold without the leather. Shivering, I tried to pull the scraps of my blouse together. It was now less of a blouse and more of a couple pieces of fabric stitched together, concealing almost nothing.

James picked me up and carried me the exact same way Mutt had been carrying me: honeymoon-style. But I didn't find it nearly as special with James as it was with Mutt.

On the way out of the window, James smacked my head against the window frame. I bellowed in pain and clutched at the back of my skull.

"I bet if I was carrying her, I wouldn't have done that," Mutt sneered.

"Oh, go put another bottle of grease in your hair," James spat, carrying me down the fire escape. I made the mistake of looking down; we were higher up then I realized. Whimpering, I watched Mutt climb out of the window and jump onto the fire escape behind me and James.

I kept my eyes on Mutt the entire time James carried me down. If I hadn't, I'm pretty sure I would have passed out.

Finally, James jumped down onto solid ground. Mutt followed close behind; I reached out a hand to him like a little child. James grabbed it and put it against his cheek; I looked up at him in confusion. That hand had been meant for my greaser, not the letterman.

_My greaser_. I liked the sound of that.

"Now what?" Marion asked. "Do we go back to James's place?"

Mutt shook his head. "I say we steal a car and then rent a hotel as far from London as possible. Everyone, especially Madie, needs a sleep." The others nodded.

"I know a hotel a little ways out of town that'll let anyone in, no matter what their condition. Or way of dressing," James said, looking pointedly at Mutt, who put his hands in his pockets and glared.

"Hey! Everyone!" Marion shouted from a little further down the block, where she had already hot-wired a van. "Let's go before the communists catch us!" She opened the back door of the white box van, and Indy put his bundle in. James placed me in the van gently and then sat beside me, and Mutt sat on my other side. Marion got shotgun and Indiana took the driver's seat.

The van rumbled to life under us, and after a while the silence in the car and the humming of the engine started to lull me to sleep. I yawned, expecting to dream about snakes.

On either side of me, Mutt and James were giving each other death stares. Mutt was jealous of James for always winning me. James hated Mutt because he was a 'dangerous' greaser. "Give it a rest, you two," I slurred, but I don't think anyone understood me.

This morning, I would have chosen James. But now, I wasn't so sure.

The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on one of the boy's shoulders. I don't know exactly whose shoulder, but I do remember falling asleep to the strong and comforting smell of leather and hair grease.

xXxXx

A/N: Okay, so I don't really have much to say here this time. Just a couple things. For example...

PLEASE REVIEW! Once again, thanks to merlincrazy! :)

I've already written the next part, I just need to finish it and edit. Maybe it'll be up by tonight! Keep your fingers crossed!

I own nothing you recognize. Just my ideas.

I don't own the song at the beginning, either. It's Amnesia by Britney Spears, and I picked it because it sort of describes how Madie forgets about her boyfriend whenever she's around Mutt. You have no idea how hard it is to find the perfect songs for the chapters... :/

Once again, thank you so much for reading, and please leave a comment!

LoTs Of LoVe

LeXi :P


	7. Chapter 7: Cosmic Love

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 7 – _Cosmic Love_

_The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out/you left me in the dark/no dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight/in the shadow of your heart_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

Hangovers suck. Especially when you have one as big as mine.

I awakened in an unfamiliar hotel room. As soon as I had tried to sit up on my bed, I became dizzy and the world started spinning. Moaning, I lay back down, shutting my eyes tightly against the pain.

Someone came up beside my bed. "Madie? Are you awake?" I heard James's voice say. I just groaned in response and turned over onto my side, facing away from him.

"Here. Drink some of this," a new voice, Marion's, said. She sat me up and propped me back against some pillows, pouring a cold liquid down my throat. It tasted horrible."It's medicine to help with your hangover. Mutt explained what happened yesterday," she smiled, making sure I finished the entire glass of the vile stuff.

I looked around the hotel room. There were three beds, a couch and a sleeping bag on the floor. A door leading to a bathroom was off to my right. Otherwise, there wasn't much else.

"Where's Mutt?" I yelled, suddenly panicked. He wasn't in the room. What if the Soviets had gotten him?

"Ssh. Calm down, honey. He's fine. Mutt and Indiana just went to go buy us some food and some clothing for you," Marion hushed. "Don't worry."

I spotted the mysterious fourth person that Indy had carried out of the warehouse. He was lying on the bed beside mine.

James turned on a light, and I suddenly saw clearly who that person was.

"Jeff!" I cried happily, smiling at my uncle.

"Hey, Madison. How are you feeling?" he asked, he voice hoarse. My uncle looked terrible. He was frail and thin, as if he hadn't had anything to eat recently, and his skin seemed too large for his body.

"Terrible. If I'm always going to get hangovers this big, I never want to drink again," I said, clutching my head in both hands. "But what about you? Are you okay? What happened?"

He shrugged. "I was here, in England, on vacation when some communists captured me. I can't understand Russian, but I knew they were talking about that key I gave you when you were little. I escaped and telephoned you, telling you to find Indiana, but apparently the Soviets had figured out you had the key. I was recaptured just as more Soviets were instructed to break into your house. Ever since then, I've been locked up in that warehouse, wondering if you got out of your home alive, and with the key."

"And if I had brought it to Indy."

"Yes. I realized you must have found him when the Joneses were brought into the warehouse; my new cellmates. I had thought you had stayed behind in Boston, Madison, where it was safe, but Indy informed me that you were probably still with his son. As it turns out, he was correct. Thank you for the rescue, by the way."

"No problem," I smiled. "So, is that it? We've rescued my uncle; can we go home now?" I asked hopefully, looking at Marion.

"It's actually a bit more complicated than that," a deep voice said, and I turned to see Indiana Jones walk into the room.

"Mutt!" I cried upon seeing him walk in after Indy, his arms laden with grocery bags. While trying to jump up out of the bed to run over to him, my legs got tangled with the sheets and I fell off the bed, landing on my face on the floor.

_Well, that certainly isn't going to help my headache_, I thought as everyone started to laugh. My face turned red as a tomato as I blushed; suddenly, Mutt was there, crouching beside me.

"Hey. How're you feeling, doll?" he said, helping me back onto the bed and sitting down beside me.

"Two words: killer hangover," I responded, while James looked on with daggers in his eyes.

I realized that I had become quite fond of Mutt in the past twenty-four hours. Suddenly, James the jock didn't seem nearly as interesting.

"What do you mean, it's more complicated?" I asked my college professor. Indiana and Jeff exchanged looks, and Marion patted my hand.

"Go have a quick shower and put on some of the clothes Indy bought you," she said, "and then they'll explain over breakfast."

"Fine," I said, grabbing the bag of clothing from Mutt, and headed off to the bathroom.

xXxXx

I'll admit it: it felt really good to have a shower. I could finally clean and brush my hair, wash all the blood and dirt off, and examine my injuries a bit closer. Once I was done, I changed into the new clothing. It was simple: a white t-shirt and jeans. I mentally thanked Mutt for realizing I didn't want a poodle skirt. And I still had my black converse.

Upon exiting the bathroom, James gave me a strange look. "Why are you wearing _that_?" he asked with a tone of disgust.

"Because I want to wear it, that's why. You got a problem with it?" I bristled, tense. I was starting to get really fed up with the way jocks like him treated others who didn't follow every rule of society.

While thinking this, I realized that I used to be exactly like that not even an entire year ago, before I had started liking Mutt from afar. I had hated greasers, and always made fun of them, and other people who weren't perfect. I had been a cube; always doing what I was told. Madie hadn't even existed back then. Only Madison.

Well, Madison was slowly disappearing. I was becoming less and less of my old, boring self every hour. And in my opinion, that was a good thing.

Jeff called me over to a spot on the floor where everyone was sitting in a circle, a pile of food in the middle. Purposefully sitting down beside Mutt and as far as possible from James, I glared at the letterman while I watched Mutt grin smugly out of the corner of my eye.

"Alright, everyone. Bon appetite," Indiana said, and we dug into the food. No one said anything as we scarfed it all down; I couldn't believe how hungry I was. Eating like a pig, I grabbed three apples, a cucumber, an entire pizza, and half a chicken. I had devoured it all in minutes, washing the food down with a jug of milk. Speaking of jugs of milk…

Once it was empty, I turned at smacked Mutt in the arm with it. "Ow! What was that for?" he rubbed his arm reproachfully while Marion unsuccessfully tried not to laugh.

"I don't remember. I just know I had promised myself to hit you with a jug earlier," I giggled as Mutt rolled his eyes.

Once everybody had slowed down eating, Jeff spoke up. "You wanted to know why we couldn't just go home, right, Madison?"

I nodded as Indiana stood and then sat on the couch. "Well," he started, "the key -" suddenly the man stopped talking. "You said the Russians took the key, right?" he demanded Mutt, who nodded.

"Madison, I'm assuming you got it back from them?" Jeff asked.

"Don't look at me," I put my hands up, "I was drunk and delirious."

"Oh, thanks. Blame it all on me," Mutt snorted.

"I thought I was damned snake!" That had been pretty much one of the few details I remembered from the previous afternoon.

"You thought you were a snake because your system wasn't used to the alcohol, baby. I _told_ you not to take part in the stupid drinking contest!"

"Well at least I did something, unlike you!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't drunk, we could have gotten the key back from them!"

"_Quiet!_" Marion shouted, and then smiled. "So it's safe to assume you don't have it?"

I hung my head. "Yeah."

"Well, the key is worthless without the map," Jeff said. I looked up.

"There's a map?" James asked.

"Yes. But we, ah, don't have that either," Jeff frowned.

"That's the reason we came to England. The map is here, in London," Indiana started. "We need to get it before the commies. You see, that key is the key to Pandora's Box. Everyone knows what Pandora's Box is, correct?"

"But that isn't real. It's just an ancient Greek myth," I scoffed.

"I don't know how to break this to you, doll, but a lot of myths are true," Mutt grinned, sitting back and leaning on his elbows.

"I'm kind of confused right now," I turned towards Dr. Jones. "Can you please explain?"

Marion pointed out that no one except Jeff and Indy knew what we were doing in England, and she even threatened to hit Indiana with a milk jug (just like I had done to Mutt) if he didn't tell us.

Indiana sighed. "Well, here goes. The Greeks had a myth that a woman named Pandora was the first woman on earth. When she was married to a Titan named Epimetheus, she received a jar for a wedding gift. Inside that jar was every evil of mankind.

"Curiosity got the better of Pandora, and she opened the jar. All the evils of the world were released, but she shut the lid of the jar before one final evil flew out: hopelessness. Hopelessness was the greatest evil: without hope, how could anyone find the courage to survive?

"Pandora locked the jar, left it on her desk and threw away the key. She went on to have a life, but she was the cause of everything bad in our world.

"About twenty years ago, Madison's uncle Jeff went on an archaeological dig in Greece. He found what he believed to be Pandora's key; Jeff stole it from the site. He was a smart man and realized that if the key fell into the wrong hands, the end of the world would ensue.

"Jeff brought the key to me, and I was able to read the Greek markings on it, thus confirming it was the fabled Pandora's key. When Madie was five years old, Jeff gave the key to her. He realized no one would suspect a child of having the key; therefore it was safe. Until recently."

"How did the Russians find out Madison had the key?" Marion asked.

Jeff blushed and looked down at his hands. "I was visiting James and his father sometime last year and let it slip. As Mutt has pointed out, someone drugged your milk from dinner a couple nights ago, and since James's father went missing right after, we're assuming it was him. I can't believe you dad would tell the Russians and then poison you guys so they could kidnap you, though," he said to James. The jock's eyes were watery as if he was about to cry, and he looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap.

"I don't know why he did it. But it's too late to go back now. I'm going to come with you guys on this adventure, alright? I need to see how this ends, and you can't leave me now that I've already been through a bit with you guys," James said.

Mutt and Indiana shared a look. "It just... doesn't add up," Indy said slowly. "I can't for the life of me figure out why James's father would do that, and betray us to the communists. He's one of my most trusted friends..."

James coughed loudly. "Maybe he was secretly a commie himself. Anyways, what's this about a map?"

I noticed Mutt frowning at the preppy, and I could almost read his thoughts: why did James change the subject so quickly? Maybe he knew more than he was letting on.

"The map," Indiana said, "shows where to find Pandora's Box."

"Wait," I interrupted, "I thought you said it was a jar?"

"It is," Jeff said, "but a long time ago, someone translated the Greek work for jar incorrectly. They called it a box, and the name has stuck ever since."

"Anyways," Indy continued, "the map shows us where to find the jar. If we can get our hands on the map and destroy it, the Russians will never be able to find Pandora's Box."

"How could they destroy the world with the box?" Mutt asked. "I mean, they could release hopelessness, but then they would be destroying themselves, too. So what's the point?"

"They could _threaten_ to destroy to world," Indiana said softly. "They could demand absolute power and money, and threaten to release hopelessness on the world if they didn't get it. Also, there are rumours that it's possible to get the evils back into the box. They could use that as leverage, too. They would offer to bring another evil out of the world every time they got something they wanted or demanded."

"Why is that second option so bad?" Marion asked.

"Because they're bad men. And even without the evils in the world, some men could still be vile and cruel. I'm not looking forward to a future controlled by commies and ruled by men with black hearts who probably only care for themselves."

"So we've got to stop them," I said, starting to half-smile. This sounded fun.

Indiana nodded. "We could get the map and destroy it, but there's always the chance that the Russians have already seen it, or that there are duplicates. So I say we get Pandora's Box, and hide it somewhere where it will never be found."

"We obviously couldn't destroy it; then hopelessness would escape," Jeff finished for Indy. "The safest place in the world to hide it is Area 51. That's where Indiana hid the Ark of the Covenant, too."

My jaw dropped. "You mean that rumour that you actually found the ark is real?"

"Of course," Indiana winked at me and smiled.

Eyes wide, I said "and I thought you were just a college professor."

All three of the Joneses just laughed.

"So what are we waiting for?" Mutt jumped up, flicking his knife around in his hands. "Let's go get that map!"

"That's my son," Dr. Jones grinned, as Mutt pulled me and Marion to our feet. "Let the action begin."

xXxXx

A/N: So... this chapter was kind of short. But that's because it was all mostly explaining. I hope everything made sense. If it didn't or you have a question, leave a comment/review and I'll fix it.

Nothing much to say here right now. Just that this is probably going to be the last chapter I can post today.

Yes, I know that it was supposed to be _hope_ that Pandora left in the box, but the myths say that the things in the box were evil. Hope isn't evil; that's why I changed it to hopelessness, which is close enough. And there are no myths that say anything about what happened to the jar after Pandora closed it, so I'm making this up as I go along.

As you may have guessed by about now, this story is about a Greek myth. I'm a total ancient Greek myth nut, so that's why I'm doing it. I hope you guys enjoy it!

A ton of thanks to_ merlincrazy_ for the review again! Seriously, you rock. Best person ever. And yep, I got the drinking contest idea from Raiders of the Lost Ark :P

PLEASE REVIEW!

I own nothing you may recognize, and I don't own Indiana Jones (sadly) ;)

I don't own the lyrics at the beginning, either, and those are from the song 'Cosmic Love' by Florence + The Machine. The lyrics have absolutely nothing to do with the chapter, but I'm in love with that song. It's just so amazing. So I had to put it up here, since I couldn't think of anything else.

LoTs Of LoVe  
LeXi  
:P


	8. Chapter 8: Heads Will Roll

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 8 - _Heads Will Roll_

_Glitter on the west streets/silver over everything/the river's all wet/you're all chrome_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

As it turns out, we were a little further from London then I had thought. The drive into the city took about an hour, and it didn't help that Indiana, who was driving, kept taking detours just in case we were being followed.

Just before we left the hotel, Mutt and I had waited alone outside for the others to pack up the stuff. I had been shivering from the cold; once again, I didn't have a jacket. Mutt and I had gotten into an argument about his leather jacket.

"Madie, I'm fine without it. You should wear it, doll," he said, taking it off.

"No, stop. I've worn it, like, twenty times. I can't keep taking it from you."

"Stop complaining, babe. I don't care. You're freezing your butt off. Just take it," he had tried to forcibly put it on me, but I stepped out of his reach, shaking my head.

We stared at each other in silence. I wrapped my arms tighter around my skinny body, suddenly embarrassed. His eyes seemed to stare right through me, seeing past my exterior right into my soul. It made me uncomfortable, and I turned away, staring at my converse.

"Madie?" Mutt whispered softly, taking a step towards me. I said nothing, and I didn't look at him. He sighed, saying "can you do something for me?"

"What?" I replied coolly, finally glancing up at him.

It was hard to be mad at the boy when I was staring at him. He looked amazing with his greased and duck-butt hair and his white t-shirt showing off his perfect Adonis figure. I wanted to run into his arms and let him hold me, but I didn't move. I was still pretty sure Mutt hated me.

He reached around his neck and pulled something off - a necklace? No, wait. It was a dog tag.

I started laughing. Mutt wore a dog tag? Well, I wasn't surprised. His name _was_ Mutt.

"Shut up," he grumbled, realizing why I was giggling. "Madie, I want you to have it."

That shut me up quick. "Why?" I asked in disbelief.

Mutt shrugged. "I don't know. I just think that if something bad happened to me, I want my parents to have tit. Sort of… as a reminder of me."

I snorted. "Nothing's going to happen to you, Mutt. And that doesn't really explain why you're giving it to _me_."

"Look, doll, you have no idea what these adventures with my dad are like. Anyone could be killed or kidnapped at any given moment. And I'm giving it to you because you're the least likely person in this group that anything is going to happen to, baby."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I exclaimed, and he rolled his eyes.

"You're missing the point. Just take it, babe, and if something happens to me, give it to my parents. Alright?"

"Fine," I murmured, annoyed, snatching the thing out of his hand. It was a silver dog tag with his name inscribed on it, and it was hanging on a long silver chain. I put it around my neck and dropped it down the front of my shirt, where it couldn't be seen. The dog tag was still warm from being against Mutt's chest his entire life. I was guessing this was the first time he had ever taken it off; greasers like him wore these things nonstop.

And although I would never say this to anyone, I also left it down the front of my shirt because then it was close to my heart.

Just when the silence was beginning to become awkward, the others had come down from our hotel room. Everyone had been piled into the van Marion had stolen yesterday, and I sat between Jeff and James. The latter man put his arm around my shoulders. I tried to shrug it off without being noticed, but it didn't work.

After an hour driving into London and another hour searching for the place we were supposed to be going, we reached our destination.

Highgate Cemetery.

Indiana said that hundreds and hundreds of years ago, an explorer had found the map. It had been passed down father-to-son in his family for generations, but only a couple hundred years ago, one of those sons had been buried with it. We were here to find the grave and steal the map.

I tried not to think of it as grave robbing. More like 'borrowing from a dead person with no intention of returning it.'

Indy parked on the side of the road, and everybody piled out of the van. "Alright," he said, "this cemetery is under surveillance, and we're not allowed in unless we pay for a guided tour. Since we don't want a tour, we're going to sneak in. Now, everybody keep quiet."

As I followed Indiana around to the back of the cemetery, I started wondering about my parents and my friends back home. Did they miss me? Did they even notice I was gone? Was my stereotypical Joe College boyfriend missing me? Was he cheating on me? Were my parents worried? Did they know I had snuck off to England?

So many questions filled my head that I started to get a headache, just like I had had when I had my hangover. But Marion had been right about the medicine she had given me; I was feeling one hundred per cent already.

Our large group slipped around to the back wall of the graveyard. It was a rather short wall; only five feet tall.

Glancing over at Indiana, I looked more closely at what he was wearing. The old man had on a brown leather jacket, a tan shirt and dark-coloured tanned pants. At his hip was a satchel, a pistol, and a whip. His signature brown fedora sat atop my teacher's head.

As Mutt had pointed out earlier, this was his world-famous Indiana Jones outfit. I smiled, reminding myself to ask him about some of his adventures later, because if adventure had a name, it was Indiana Jones.

"Jeff, why don't you stay here and watch the car?" Indy said to my uncle, who nodded gratefully. Jeff was in no condition to be grave robbing and searching for lost maps.

We all hopped over the low stone wall quietly. I landed in a bush and glared at Mutt while he silently laughed at me as I climbed out. Straightening up, James plucked a couple of leaves out of my hair, giving me a smile that would have made Madison blush with happiness.

We crept through the bushes and emerged onto one of the walkways leading through the west side of the graveyard. "If you see anyone, hide. We're not allowed to be in this part of the cemetery unless we're on a guided tour," Indiana said. As we headed down the path, following Indy, I glanced at some of the headstones. There was one of a white lady with a bow and arrow; another of a woman lying on a bed, sleeping. They were amazingly detailed, lifelike and exactly the same size as a normal person. I had never seen headstones that had even come close in comparison to these ones. They were beautiful.

There was one I especially liked. It was a white lady kneeling down, a couple flowers in her lap. She was wearing a dress belted at the waist, and the name on the tombstone said something like 'Caroline Tucker.' It was difficult to read though, because it was so old.

"She looks a bit like you," James said, pointing to the statue. "Except you're a bit younger."

"Thanks," I said, blushing. The statue was really pretty, so that made what James had said a compliment. I realized that I was angry at the boy for no reason; he hadn't really done anything bad. So I linked my arm in his and he pulled me closer to him as we walked past the other graves.

I felt a little guilty when I saw Mutt staring at us, a hint of anger and jealousy on his face. But I was pretty sure Mutt didn't like me _that way_, so why did he care? All Mutt had ever done was make fun of me for being a preppy and saving everyone's asses by taking part in that drinking contest. He always acted as if I was a tiny bug that he wanted to squish. A lot. When he had given me his dog tag, I had thought it was because he wanted me to have a little piece of him. But no. He had given it to me for safekeeping, so I could give it to his parents if something happened. So why was I crushing on him?

I decided to spend more time with James, and less with my greaser.

Correction - _the_ greaser. He wasn't mine. He didn't even like me. As a matter of fact, he always seemed to be _angry_ at me. Mutt was always acting violent; greasers were dangerous. Why was I starting to turn into one?

I felt like I had been brainwashed. Who was I really? Madison, or Madie? Because right now, I felt a lot like Madison. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe Madie was a terrible influence. She was rash and violent; my punch to the preppy's face yesterday proved that. She was caught in the space-between-spaces: not quite a greaser, but defiantly not a preppy.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable in the pants and t-shirt. I wanted my skirt and high heels back. I wanted my old friends, and my innocence, and my untarnished reputation. I wanted to be home, instead of going on this wild and dangerous adventure. This wasn't something I could do. It was meant for people like James, who could handle themselves. What had I been thinking yesterday, when I had started the drinking contest and demanded to go into the warehouse with Mutt? What had made me do something as bold as that?

Now I was really confused. My headache was coming back. I needed to stop and rest, so I could think clearly.

Because right now, I was seriously considering giving up Madie for good.

My thoughts were interrupted by James. "So, do we just find this guy's grave and then dig it up so we can grab the map?"

Marion smiled. "It's going to be much more difficult than that. It's always much more difficult." I wondered what she meant.

After about five more minutes of walking, Indiana announced that we had reached our destination. I stared up at the family tomb of a family with the last name 'Meyer.' It wasn't just a simple gravestone that we had to dig up. It was an entire mausoleum, and we were going to have to search through the thing to find the map.

The mausoleum was made of some type of smooth gray stone, and the door was shut firmly, but the padlock on it was so old that just one tug by Indiana sent it crumbling to the ground.

"Alright. I want Marion and Madie to stay here and keep guard, alright?" he said, looking at us.

"What? Like hell I'm staying here!" Marion exclaimed, suddenly pushing Indy out of the way, yanking open the heavy stone door and slipping into the depths of the tomb.

"Marion!" Indiana yelled, about to follow her. Just before he went into the tomb, he turned back to look at me, Mutt and James. "One of you, stay here with Madie. The other gets to come with me," he said, before following Marion into the blackness of the mausoleum.

"I'm staying with Madie." both boys shouted at the same time. "No, you're going into the tomb. Me? I'm going to keep watch. You go with Indiana," they continued, somehow managing to say the same thing at the same time. I giggled.

Madie wanted to go into the tomb. Madison wanted to stay outside with James. And right now, I was Madison.

I was just stepping forward to tell Mutt to go ahead and follow his dad when we all froze, listening intently.

"And now we're coming upon the tomb of the famous Meyer family. They were explorers…" we heard a voice say in dull-set tones, obviously lecturing a tour group.

"Dammit! We're going to be in so much trouble if they find us!" I whispered, pushing past the quarrelling boys and slipping into the tomb. There was no way I was going to let a tour guide catch me.

"Madie! You're supposed to stay out here! It's not safe!" Mutt yelled.

"You two _girls_ can keep watch. _I'm_ not staying out there with the damned tour groups." And just like that, I was Made again.

It was pitch dark in the tomb. I took a step forward and slipped, pitching head-first into the blackness. Screaming, I fell down a set of stairs, bumping into the dusty walls and banging my head against the steps repeatedly. I landed on my butt in a large room, and looked up to see Indiana Jones and Marion staring down at me in a heap on the floor.

Indy rolled his eyes. "Great. The two people I wanted to keep watch are down here with me."

"That's what you get for being sexist by making the girls stay outside," Marion wagged her finger in his face.

"I wasn't being sexist," Indiana said, and Marion sighed.

Indy had a flashlight in his hands, and he shone it around as I stood up and wiped the dust off my butt. I staggered over to a shelf and leaned against it while tying my shoe; suddenly, the shelf moved and came crashing down on top of me. I fell to the floor again, and when I looked up, I found myself staring right into the hollow eyes of a human skull!

I shrieked and scrambled backwards, bumping into another skeleton. It fell on top of me, bones rattling, and the head popped off and rolled onto my lap. I screamed again, and stood up. Another skeleton fell towards me; I ducked to avoid it and landed in the arms of yet another human corpse. Some of the dead people still had rotting flesh or hair on them; dust started to make me sneeze as more skeleton arms crushed me in an embrace. Crying out, I pushed another away, only to have a new person take its place. They were everywhere, suffocating me. Turning around, I was greeted by a grinning skull. Heads were rolling on the floor around my feet, and I stepped on one, crushing it beneath my converse.

I shrieked again, and stumbled backwards. Warm and strong arms enveloped me; living arms. I turned around and put my arms around the person's neck, holding onto them for dear life. They crushed me against their chest, my racing heart a strange contrast to their calm one. After a couple minutes of the person's strong embrace, I pulled away only to find myself in Mutt's arms. His forehead was creased, and he looked at me in worry.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asked, not a trace of cockiness in his voice. I hugged him again, still breathing hard. Behind us, Indiana chuckled.

"Told you that you should have stayed watch," he smiled, looking at Marion. She frowned. "Remember when that same thing happened to you when we were looking for the ark?"

She just stomped off into another part of the tomb.

I glanced around at the carnage I had created in the mausoleum. Human bones and skulls lay everywhere; the sarcophagi that had lined the walls were now lying open on the floor.

"Whoops," I said softly.

"We came down here because there was a tour guide coming, and we would have been caught," Mutt explained. "Sorry, gramps. Looks like we don't have any guards."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mutt? Don't call your father gramps!" Marion shouted from a smaller room that was off the large burial chamber we were currently in. Indiana trudged off to find her.

"Okay, doll. Enough with the death grip," Mutt chuckled. I still had my arms locked around his neck.

James walked over to us. "Come here, Madison. I'll stay with you."

"On second thought, babe, I don't really mind your death grip," Mutt said jealously.

I jumped out of his arms and walked out of the room to where Indy and Marion were, ignoring both boys, who started fighting again as soon as they thought I was out of earshot.

I walked up beside Indiana, who was currently searching through the sarcophagi calmly, looking for the map. He was become frustrated; that much I could tell.

"It should be somewhere in here," he said through clenched teeth.

"Indyyyyyyy!" Marion suddenly screamed from somewhere, and the two of us ran over to a small hole in the wall behind a sarcophagus. Indiana called out to her, but our ears were greeted with silence.

I sucked in a breath. "She's down there in that hole, isn't she?" I asked, to which Indiana nodded. "I'll go get here, then."

"Madie, it's not safe."

"Do you want your wife back, or not?"

"She can take care of herself while I find something to make the hole bigger so I can fit through," Indy grumbled, but I was already crawling into the hole head-first.

"Madison!" Indiana yelled, but I was already gone. There was nothing in the hole; just a big black space to freefall. I managed not to scream as I tumbled through the dark air, which smelled of death and decay.

But I did scream upon impact with the ground. My ankle took the full blow when I hit the solid concrete; it twisted in an unnatural way as I crumpled after it. Screaming in agony, I felt someone's hand on my shoulder.

It jumped, thinking it was another skeleton, but it was just Marion. "Madie? Is that you?"

"Yeah," I barely managed to get out between clenched teeth, hissing out the pain. I took deep breaths as my fingers found my left ankle. The bone was crooked, and a sticky warm liquid also known as blood now coated my shoe. "Get Indy to throw the flashlight down," I gasped between little screams of pain. Marion yelled up at him, and she helped me crawl out of the way before he tossed the light down the hole.

As our surroundings were illuminated, I started to shriek. Marion, too, let out a cry of terror. Covering the walls and floor were thousands and thousands of huge, hairy black spiders. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the agony in my ankle as I leaped over to a huge slab of stone in the centre of the room. Not a single spider was on the slab, which I realized was a huge stone coffin as I crawled on top of it. Marion followed right behind me.

We hadn't touched the light, which sill showed us the millions of spiders on the walls, withering and squirming like a giant ocean of blackness.

"What's happening?" Indiana yelled down, and we could barely hear him over my screams. Marion clapped a hand over my mouth to shut me up, and even though the sound was muffled I continued to cry out.

"Indy, don't come down here," Marion yelled.

"Why? Are there snakes?" he asked.

"No. Spiders. And I think Madie's broken her ankle," Marion said, looking at the blood now spreading across the top of the sarcophagus.

"Don't move, Madie, or the injury could become worse," my teacher yelled to me. I stopped screaming and instead concentrated on taking deep breaths, to try to block out the pain.

Staring down at the blood on the coffin lid, I noticed a name carved into the stone.

"Marion," I said between gasps, "what was the name of the man who was buried with the map?"

"George Meyer, but don't worry about that right now. We're going to get you out of here and get you to a doctor," Marion said, rubbing my back.

_George Meyer. A loved son, husband, brother and father. Explorer and geographer. Born 1777, died 1840. _That's what the tombstone we were sitting on said.

We had found the right burial chamber.

"Marion," I said, but she wasn't listening because she was yelling at her husband.

"Marion," I repeated a little more urgently, but she still didn't hear me. I leaned over the edge of the tomb and looked at the floor, writhing with eight-legged creatures.

I had an immense fear of spiders. I hated them. Even if I was in the same room as one, I would scream and run outside, demanding someone kill it. But right now, I needed to be tough. I had to ignore my fear.

I shut my eyes and jumped off the tomb, hopping around on my good right foot. I could feel the little monsters being crushed beneath me, and I had to hold back a scream as one even started to climb up my leg.

"Marion!" I yelled more loudly this time, and she turned to see me hopping around, eyes shut.

"What are you doing? Get back on here!" she exclaimed. I screamed a little as another spider started to climb my leg.

"Just get off the damned tomb and help me push the lid off!"

"Why?" she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"Goddammit, just get off the lid!" I shouted. She jumped down beside me, and held my elbow so I didn't need to hop around anymore. I slowly tried putting my bad foot down on the ground, but just the slightest pressure made me gasp in pain, so I continued to keep it off the ground.

Together, Marion and I grabbed the edge of the lid of the coffin and, ever so slowly, slid it back. The heavy stone scraped and groaned and tried to resist us, but in the end it crashed to the floor and broke into multiple pieces.

We started coughing at the cloud of dust that rose; I waved my hand in front of my face to clear the air. Eyes watering, I glanced down at what was in the grave.

The skeleton looked so perfect it almost looked fake. Not a single scrap of flesh or cloth was on its bones.

But the skeleton was the only thing in the coffin.

"Why did you want to open this, Madie?" Marion asked, swatting at some spiders on her legs.

"This is George Meyer's coffin. The map is supposed to be in here," I frowned, confused. Marion picked up a tiny brown piece of paper that had been laying in the man's ribcage.

"It's in French. I can't read it. Mutt won't be able to translate it either; he only speaks English and Spanish," she mumbled. "But Indiana probably knows French. Hell, I've yet to hear of a language he doesn't know."

"I speak French," I said, taking the paper from her and leaning against the tomb. I translated in my head: 'The Map of Pandora is no longer safe in this place. Tomb raiders are becoming more and more frequent, and eventually someone will find it. I've moved it to somewhere much, much safer: the catacombs of Paris. Signed George Meyer's son; George Meyer Junior.'

"Ah, shit," I groaned, placing a hand against my sweaty forehead.

"What's wrong?" Marion frowned.

"The map isn't here anymore."

"WHAT? Then how are we supposed to find it?"

I gave her a tiny half-smile. "It says on this paper. Marion, we're going to France!"

xXxXx

A/N: This wasn't the best thing I've ever written, and it was pretty short, but whatever. I'm trying.

Hopefully I can get two more chapters up today within the next couple hours; we'll see!

Not much action happened here, and not much will happen in the next chapter, but then we'll get on to some more adventure. So hang in there, dear readers!

I don't own the quote 'if adventure had a name, it must be Indiana Jones.' That was on the poster for Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (or maybe it was the Temple of Doom poster. I don't remember).

I have no idea what Highgate Cemetery looks like. I've never been there, so sorry if some of the descriptions are innacurate! Oh, and the Caroline Tucker statue is real, but it's in the east end of the graveyard, not the west like I said. At least, I think her name is Caroline Tucker.

The Meyers aren't real, although it's possible. It's a pretty common last name.

I have no idea if greasers wore dog tags back in the fifties, but I decided to put it in, just because. Don't get mad.

Once again, a bucketful of thanks to _merlincrazy_ for the reviews! You honestly are the best.

But to you others who are reading this story... is it really that hard to leave a comment? I know there are others. I have ways of finding out ;P

But seriously. I love it when people 'follow' or 'like' the story, but it's even better when people review. I know merlincrazy isn't the only person reading!

I don't own anything you recognize, and I don't own Indiana Jones. Also, the lyrics at the beginning are not mine. They are property of the 'Yeah Yeah Yeahs,' and the song is called 'Heads Will Roll.'

LoTs Of LoVe  
LeXi  
:P


	9. Chapter 9: Complicated

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 9 _- Complicated_

_Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated/I see the way you're actin' like you're somebody else/gets me frustrated/life's like this you_

xXxXx

Henry (Mutt) Jones III's POV

"She looks a bit like you," James said to Madie, pointing to the statue on top of Caroline Tucker's grave. "Except you're a bit younger."

I walked a few steps behind everyone, hands in my leather jacket pockets. Madie was enjoying looking at all the headstones; James was enjoying looking at Madie. I was not enjoying looking at him obsess over her.

It wasn't fair. Madison always picked James over me, probably just because he was a preppy and I was a 'dangerous greaser.' She had grown up around boys like that, who compliment her every five minutes and smile and act perfect.

I'm pretty sure Madie hated me. She just didn't understand why I wasn't like James. She couldn't figure out why I wasn't constantly harassing her with kind words and annoying her with happy looks. I barfed a little on the inside when she blushed and took James's arm, glancing back at me.

Every time James won her over, they both seemed to rub it in_. Ha. I'm a preppy and you're a greaser. I get the girl_, James's looks always seemed to say.

Although it was hard to admit, I think I was falling for Madison. She was sweet, funny and she really could take care of herself. Unlike every single other girl I knew, she was bold and brave and liked to take control of things. Sure, she screamed a lot, but that was normal.

Madie dressed like a preppy, but she sure as hell didn't act like one. I admired her for that. Admittedly, it was a bit annoying that when she was around her friends and family she acted perfect, and when she was with me or my parents she showed her true colors, but I was fine with it as long as she was the real Madie when I was near.

I wanted to punch James in the face. When she was around him, she became the girl I couldn't stand. It was his fault. If the stupid jock wasn't here, I would be the one Madison had linked arms with.

I pulled my biker's cap lower over my face. Maybe crushing on Madie was pointless. I mean, whenever she talked to me I always got angry and did something stupid or violent. All it did was make her hate me more and make me look like a fool. I knew she couldn't stand me; that was probably what made me the most upset. I really liked her. Maybe more then I had ever liked any other girl before. And there had been a lot of other girls before.

But Madison was different. None of the city stuff seemed to affect her. I remembered yesterday afternoon and the way she had stood up for herself when I was being kind of mean in the warehouse. That had been hotter than anything any other girls had even done. And I remembered the feel of her soft, now tanned skin against my lips. I had wanted to kiss her on the mouth so badly, but I restrained myself. What would she have done? Or thought?

I had lied when I had given her my dog tag. I said it was so she could give it to my parents, but I had actually given it to her so she would always have a piece of me with her. This way, no matter what James did, I would still be with her, one way or another.

Sometimes, I thought Madie was two different people. One was her preppy self, and the other was the self I was falling for.

When I said falling, I didn't mean I was just starting to like her. No, I had liked her ever since our conversation on the plane. Actually, I had liked her even before that. Back before the plane ride, I had developed a crush on the girl. I had started to notice her more and more frequently. Sometimes, when I saw her at school or at a diner, a bit of her real, non-preppy self had been showing through. I had always wondered what was really underneath her perfect exterior.

On the inside, Madison wasn't that perfect. But that's what I loved about her.

Yes, I was starting to fall _in love_ with Madie. But I wasn't so sure this was a good idea. Why was I falling in love with her if she seemed to hate me? I needed to give up before I got really hurt.

My thoughts were interrupted by James. "So, do we just find this guy's grave and then dig it up so we can grab the map?"

Mom smiled. "It's going to be much more difficult than that. It's always much more difficult." Well, she certainly had that right. Life with the Joneses was not an easy ride.

Five minutes later, we came upon a mausoleum with the family surname 'Meyer' on it. Maybe that's what Mom meant when she said it would be harder then it looked. We had to search an entire tomb. I watched as Dad tugged on the ancient padlock that was supposed to keep to door closed. It fell to the ground and broke into three pieces.

"Alright. I want Marion and Madie to stay here and keep guard, alright?" Dad said, looking everybody in the eyes.

"What? Like hell I'm staying here!" Mom exclaimed, suddenly pushing Indy out of the way, yanking open the heavy stone door and slipping into the depths of the tomb. Yep. That would be my mother for you.

"Marion!" Dad yelled, putting a foot in the door, about to follow her. Before he entered the tomb, he looked back at me, Madison and James. "One of you, stay here with Madie. The other gets to come with me," he said, before following Marion into the blackness of the mausoleum.

I was torn between saying I wanted to go into the tomb and saying I wanted to stay with Madie. On one hand, I was really looking forward to an adventure and something exciting to do, but on the other hand, I wanted to stay with Madison. Then maybe I could find out if she really hated me, and I could get her away from James. I chose the latter option. There would be lots of opportunities to go exploring with my dad in the near future. He was Indiana Jones, after all.

"I'm staying with Madie," James and I said at the exact same time. "No, you're going into the tomb. Me? I'm going to keep watch. You go with Indiana," we continued, somehow managing to speak in sync with each other and say the exact same thing. I glanced at Madie, wondering what was her choice. I could tell by the girl's expression that she wanted to stay with the preppy. Bloody James. One day, I was going to kill him.

Madie took a step towards me, but I froze, listening to sounds coming from behind the tomb. It sounded like a tour group.

"And now we're coming upon the tomb of the famous Meyer family. They were explorers…" we heard a voice say in dull-set British tones.

"Dammit! We're going to be in so much trouble if they find us!" Madie whispered, eyes wide, pushing past me and James and walking into the mausoleum.

"Madie! You're supposed to stay out here! It's not safe!" I yelled, remembering myself saying the same thing to her yesterday at least five times. She hadn't listened to me then, either.

"You two _girls_ can keep watch," she teased, yelling from within the burial chamber. "_I'm_ not staying out there with the damned tour group."

And then I heard her scream and the sounds of someone falling.

James and I exchanged a look, before we both raced to the entrance door at the same time.

"Let me go! I can catch her!" James shouted while we both wrestled for whoever was going to go in first.

"Like hell! You should stay outside and keep watch!" I yelled, shouldering James out of my way. He snorted.

"Why do you even want to go down there with Madison? You're a dirty greaser!"

"Oh, and you're so much better."

"Actually yes, I am!" he told me, and then we momentarily paused to hear the sounds of the tour guide, who was mere meters around the corner.

I took advantage of our sudden cease in struggling and headed into the mausoleum, James right on my heels. I sprinted down a staircase while James unsuccessfully tried to slow me down by grabbing my leather jacket. I heard him call me things that I didn't even know were legal to say, as we got closer to the bottom, where I could hear Madie screaming.

I raced down the stairs into a large room with sarcophagi lining the walls; well, they _used _to line the walls. Madie was currently knocking every single one onto the floor and having all the skeletons fall all over her. She stumbled backwards, screaming, as another skull rolled on the floor. The brunette fell backwards and I only just managed to catch her in my arms; the girl turned and enveloped me in a crushing hug, hanging on for dear life. I could feel her heart beating frantically as I held her to me, trying to calm her screams.

Madison pulled away and looked up at me, her cheeks flushed and hair messed up. "Are you alright, baby?" I asked, worried. She just hugged me again, still breathing hard. Over in a corner of the crypt, my dad chuckled.

"Told you that you should have stayed watch," he smiled, looking at Mom, who frowned. "Remember when that same thing happened to you when we were looking for the ark?"

She glared at him and then angrily stormed off into another smaller room just off the one we were in.

"Whoops," Madie said softly, looking at the chaos she had created in the tomb. Her arms were still locked around my neck, and I pressed her tighter against my body. We seemed to fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces. I smiled at the thought.

"We came down here because there was a tour guide coming, and we would have been caught," I said when I noticed my dad giving me an annoyed look. "Sorry, gramps. Looks like we don't have any guards."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mutt? Don't call your father gramps!" Mom shouted from the other room, and Indy stomped off to find her.

"Okay, doll. Enough with the death grip," I chuckled, looking at Madie. She was starting to suffocate me.

James walked over to us. "Come here, Madison. I'll stay with you."

"On second thought, babe, I don't really mind your death grip," I growled through clenched teeth, glaring at James, who smiled angelically. There was no way I was going to let him take Madie away when she was this close to me.

Madison glared at both of us and said nothing, before letting go of me and storming off into the other room with my parents.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I started yelling at James. "What was that? _'I'll stay with you.'_ That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard from you, and you've said a lot of pathetic things!"

"Well, I'm sorry that you're jealous because she likes me more then you," James leaned against the wall, careful not to step on any bones.

"Says who? You think Madie likes you, but have you seen the way she looks at you sometimes?" I shouted.

"I suppose you think she likes you, then," James sneered. I said nothing. "Just wait, Jones. One day, it's going to be me she comes running to. She's going to want a guy that can take care of her."

"She's pointed out at least fifty times that she doesn't need someone to take care of her," I said in a low voice.

"That's not what I mean, dumb-ass, and you know it," the letterman said calmly. "When she needs a family, and a home, and someone to always be there for her, she won't come to you. You're going to be running off on your stupid non-existent rebel causes and adventures. _She can't have a real life with you_, Jones. You're worthless. But I'll be able to support her. I've almost gotten my degree, and when I do, I'm going to move back to the states. I can get a good job, make some good money, and give Madison a real life. That includes a house, and kids too, probably. What will you be able to give her when you drop out of school again? She can't have a real life when you're never home. Just watch, Jones. Even if she loved you now, which she doesn't, by the way, there would be nothing you two could do. It would just be a simple crush. Eventually, she'll come back to me. And you know it."

I yelled and lunged at James, trying to strangle him. We fell to the floor, rolling around in the skeletons and bones.

"You never know when to quit, do you, nosebleed?" James sneered, his face turning red. He grabbed the back of my head and smashed my forehead against the edge of a coffin. I scrambled to my feet and delivered a right hook to his jaw, to which he responded with a punch to my nose. Blood was trickling into my mouth and my forehead and nose were bleeding, but I wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

"She's just a stereotypical cube, Jones. She wouldn't dream of doing something like falling for you. And it's because you're a dirty greaser," James smiled, wiping some blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. _"She's not smart enough to realize she has more options than just me."_

"Madie's not like that! She's not a cube, and you take what you said back!" I yelled, punching him in the face. He twisted my arm behind my back, yanking up so I was yelling in pain, but I elbowed him in the stomach with my other arm. While he was gasping for breath I grabbed his feet and flipped the jock onto his back; he banged the back of his head onto one of the ledges that was supposed the hold coffins before Madie knocked them all over. James cried out loudly as he reached for the back of his head, which was now bleeding like crazy. I was about to punch him in the jaw again when suddenly someone roughly grabbed my wrist, restraining me.

Looking up slowly, dread filled my stomach when I saw who was in the burial chamber with us. So _that's_ why Dad wanted guards, I thought as I gazed at the machine guns and burly Russian men now blocking the exit and surrounding me and James.

"It is not nice to hit your friends," the man holding my arm said. Surprisingly, he didn't have a Russian accent; instead, it was British. I spotted Thoratlov standing in the corner, grinning madly. The two men who Madie had gone against in the drinking contest were nowhere to be seen. I assumed the worst.

Ripping my arm out of the British man's grip, I pulled out my comb with shaking hands. While running it through my hair, men helped James to his feet. The barrel of a pistol was pressed into my back none too gently, and the British man demanded I walk into the other smaller burial chamber in the mausoleum. All I could think was _Madie and my parents are in there_ as I walked with heavy feet. But when we entered the room and I put my comb away, Madie and my mom were nowhere to be seen. Just Indiana, standing in the corner of the room, shouting down into a hole in the wall.

"Look around and see if there's another exit, Marion. I don't think you can climb out," he shouted, completely oblivious to the fact James and I were being held at gunpoint behind him.

At least, he was oblivious until he heard the mechanical 'click' of a pistol being pressed against his own back.

"Dr. Jones. How nice to see you again," the British man said, casually strolling over to Dad.

"Claymore," my father sneered, standing up slowly. "So it's you who's been chasing after my family so you could get the key."

The man, Claymore, smiled. "Sort of. You see, I'm not working alone." Just then, the scariest man I had ever seen walked into the room.

He was Russian, and had a cruel face that looked like it had seen many murders and been through more pain then imaginable. He was huge and strong, too, and had a mop of blonde hair on top of his head.

"I've heard so much about you, Dr. Jones. It's nice to finally meet you," he said, his voice tinted with a strong Russian accent. "I am Vladimir Karpol. Now, if you would be so kind as to give us the map to Pandora's box, would could be on our way without having to hurt your son," he said, pushing me forward.

"Don't give these pigs a thing," I said, holding my head high. I had said the same thing to Indy when Irina had held a sword to my neck about a month ago.

"I don't have the map," Dad said in his deep voice. "Why don't you just get it yourself, Claymore? When we were in college together, you always liked to get the artefacts before me."

"Wait, you know this guy?" I asked, looking at my father.

"Sure. We went to school together. He always stole things from the archaeological digs we went on," Dad glared at the man. "But I've never seen this Russian commie scum before in my life."

"Ah. Well, I am a Soviet archaeologist much like yourself, Dr. Jones. Except I never get my findings taken away from me. For example, you found the ark. But that was stolen, no? And you found the Holy Grail. But, alas, it is not in your possession," Karpol smiled.

"I don't have those objects because I don't _steal_ them, you bastard. They either belong in a museum, or under government protection. Because in the wrong hands, half of the objects I've found could destroy the world."

"Well. That may be true, Dr. Jones, but I still believe I am the better archaeologist, even though you may be the better man. Now, where is the map?" he said, dusting invisible dust off his hands.

"I told you, I don't have it. It's not here," my father said. "I've searched the entire place."

"Then what's in that hole?" Claymore asked, peering into the blackness.

"Spiders, apparently. My wife and our friend fell down there," Dad said, keeping his calm.

"Dr. Jones, the life of your son depends on this. Is the map down there?" Claymore smiled quizzically, and the gun was pressed harder into my back.

"No. It's not," my father growled, glancing at the numerous other Russians with machine guns. No one said anything for a couple minutes, before Claymore finally spoke up again.

"Fine. I believe you, Dr. Jones. I know you are an honest man. We will not kill your son and his friend," he started, "but I think they would make good additions to our search team, to help find the map. Thoratlov! Bring the two men back to the van. We will bring them to my house, where I want them to be treated like royalty until we figure out where the map is," he barked out orders.

"You're kidnapping them?" Dad asked in disbelief, and I know he would have started a fight if there weren't so many guns in the place.

"Exactly. As for you… well, I no longer want you trying to foil my plans. What do you think we should do to him, Karpol?" Claymore asked the Russian pleasantly.

"Shoot him," the man smiled slowly.

"No, that's much too cruel. We are civilized men. I say we lock him in that hole with his wife and their friend," Claymore grinned, and Karpol nodded and grunted in response.

"No!" I started shouting as my father was pushed roughly into the hole, but a gag was shoved into my mouth as James and I were pushed to the exit. They weren't actually going to lock my parents and Madie in there, were they?

Apparently so. The men boarded up the hole in the wall and hammered it in place as soon as my Dad was all the way through.

Just when I was starting to consider punching someone in the face, Thoratlov pulled out his gun and pointed it at me.

"Say goodbye, stupid-hair boy," he said, and then hit me over the head with the gun. Well, at least I'm not being shot, I thought as I passed out on the cold stone floor. But what was going to happen to my parents - and Madie?

xXxXx

A/N: So as you can see, I suck at endings. Oh well. I try.

Lots more action is going to be in the next chapter! Yay!

Change of plans: I don't know if I'll be able to get another chapter up. Oh well. Hopefully this will be able to hold you over until next time.

Reviews are great! Someone please review; I know there are lots of people reading this? So why do I only have one reviewer? ;)

I'm hoping you guys are enjoying the story so far...

Meh. There's nothing I can really say here.

I own nothing you recognize, and the song and lyrics at the beginning are 'Complicated' from Avril Lavigne.

UnTiL nExT tImE...  
LeXi  
:P


	10. Chapter 10: Illusion

Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora

Chapter 10 - _Illusion_

_I'm surrounded by confusion/and I'm lost in this illusion/follow my dreams into distant lands/blowing in the winds over shifting sands_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

Marion smiled when I told her we were going to France, and just as she was helping me sit on the edge of the coffin away from the spiders, we jumped at a loud thump that had suddenly come from the direction of the flashlight. I watched a large shape fall to the floor of the burial chamber, and then the shape slowly got up from the floor, stretching.

"Ah, I'm getting too old for this," I heard Indy say, grabbing the flashlight from the floor. Loud banging sounds came from the direction of the hole, and I looked up to see all traces of light being blocked out.

"Indiana, what happened?" Marion said as her husband staggered over to where we were sitting.

"The Russians found us," he said in his calm, deep voice. "They've locked us in this hole and kidnapped Mutt and James."

"_What?_" I exclaimed, worried. What were they going to do to them?

"The bad news," my teacher continued, "is that I have no idea if it's going to be possible for us to escape this place. The good news is that I know where Mutt and James have been taken. The kidnapper was an old colleague of mine, Andrew Claymore. He lives in a large mansion just outside of London. He mentioned that was where the boys were being taken."

"Well, we've got to rescue them," Marion stated firmly. "But honestly, how many times do the people in our group have to get kidnapped?"

Indiana chuckled. "This is life, honey. We have to learn to deal with it."

"Um, Indy? The map isn't here," I said. "We found a note that said it's been moved to France." He looked at the open coffin and the scrap of brown paper still in my hand, and nodded.

"That's great, but first things first. We need to get out of here," he smiled grimly, fixing his hat on his head.

"I don't know if there's an exit. And even if there was, I think Madie's broken her ankle. She's not going anywhere fast," Marion sighed.

Demanding to have a look at it, I lifted my foot and showed Indiana. "Hmm. Don't worry; it's just a sprain. It's only bleeding like that because you scraped a hell of a lot of your skin off," he murmured, ripping off a strip of my t-shirt and wrapping it around my foot.

I raised my eyebrows. "Don't you have any first aid supplies in your satchel?" He just laughed and shook his head, tying the makeshift bandage tightly. I sucked in air sharply when he pulled on it, but after my ankle actually did feel a little bit better. Marion got up and walked over to the wall of the burial chamber.

"Do you have anything to get rid of these spiders, Indy?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Here. Just brush them off the wall with my whip. As long as they aren't snakes, I don't really care." Ah. Mutt had told me that Indiana had a deathly fear of snakes, and that his own fear of scorpions almost matched his father's. Apparently Indy's dad had had a fear of rats that was just as bad as his son's fear, too. Well, I unfortunately had a fear of spiders.

Indiana walked over to Marion and brushed the nasty creatures off the wall with his coiled whip. Their squirming little bodies fell to the floor in a heap and scuttled under the wall. Wait, what? Under the wall?

"Look! The wall doesn't end where the floor begins!" I cried out, pointing and continuing to sit on the edge of the coffin with my feet as far from the floor as possible. Indy shone the flashlight at the floor and noticed the gap, which was as tall as his hat. He reached underneath it and ran his fingers along the edge, looking for something. Finally, he smiled when he heard a hollow 'click' and the wall slowly started to shift upwards. It was like a garage door, revealing a dark space behind it.

"Come on, Madie. Looks like there may be more than one exit," Indy wagged a finger, but I didn't move.

"I'm not going anywhere near those spiders again," my voice trembled, and I hugged my knees to my chest. The older man trudged over to me and picked me up, slinging me over his back like a sack of potatoes. I screamed a little, but then shut up when we walked under the wall, which had stopped moving. Marion had already stepped through, and was now looking around in awe.

"What is this place?" she asked, as Indy set me on the now spider-free floor. The walls were painted with silver, and there was a dried-up fountain in the centre of the small room. Lining the walls were ancient artefacts of all types.

Indiana walked over to a gold statue. "It's a Mayan idol," he said, stooping over to admire the fine craftsmanship. "Look at all the stuff in here! I'm not surprised, though. The Meyers were explorers; they were bound to run across things like these in their travels. I had always wondered why they never seemed to donate to museums. I guess they hid everything here."

I glanced around, and recognized things from every civilisation. Ancient Egyptian, Mesopotamian, Chinese, Sumerian, and Roman things were littered across the room. Marion was busy examining a Roman necklace, and Indy was studying another Mayan idol. But there were really only two things that caught my interest. One was a golden apple. It was the exact size and shape of a real apple, and was perfect down to every last detail. I picked it up and turned it over in my hand, admiring it. Noticing a small inscription on the bottom, I peered closer, but it wasn't in English or French; nothing I could read. It said 'καλλίστῃ,' and looked a lot like ancient Greek writing. I decided to ask Indiana about it later.

I then picked up the other object that had caught my interest. It was a tiara made of silver, and there was a small crescent moon upon it, painted in gold. It seemed fragile, and I gently put the beautiful thing on my head, smiling. The silver band went right around my forehead, and the crescent moon was pointed up, like a horseshoe might be.

I walked over to Indiana and held out the apple. "Hey, do you know what-"

"Madie! _Don't touch anything!_" he cried out, panicked, and I dropped the apple in surprise. Marion screamed when suddenly four men jumped out from the fountain. But they somehow weren't men; their backs were arched at an impossible angle, and their skin was pink and shiny. The things - monsters - had no eyes or noses, but their mouths had hundreds and hundreds of sharp, pointy teeth all in rows. They made clicking noises as they held up weapons: spears and swords. Silver water flowed out from the fountain powerfully once the monsters had made their exit. Marion ran over to where I was cowering behind Indiana. My voice trembled as I asked them "_this_ is archaeology?"

Despite the terrifying situation we were in, Indiana Jones found the time to laugh.

He pulled his pistol out of its holder, and shot one of the things in the chest, but it didn't stop advancing. Indiana swore and we all ducked as a sword came flying at our heads; I screamed and crawled over behind a Mayan statue. One of the four beasts spotted me and hobbled over, still making clicking noises. I decided I would rather face a truck full of spiders than even one of these thing's arms.

The one that was coming towards me had a spear in his slimy hand, and just before he was about to stab me with it I pushed the Mayan idol down on top of him. It shattered and the monster fell to the floor, writing and screaming. I sprinted over to the other side of the room, but it got back on its feet in seconds.

Nearby, Indiana pulled out his whip. It made a whistling sound as it sliced through the air, knocking a sword out of one of the thing's hands. The weapon skittered across the room to bump against the silver wall. I crawled over on my hands and knees, trying to ignore the burning in my sprained ankle, as the weapon-less beast ran after me. I was just reaching out a hand for the sword when the thing grabbed me and threw me against one of the walls; I crumpled in a heap on top of a glass case. The glass shattered and I fell to the floor, but while scrambling to my feet I sliced my hands on the sharp, broken glass shards.

With bloody hands, I picked up a Greek vase and chucked it at the monster who had thrown me against the wall. Catching the beast's attention, I climbed over an empty sarcophagus and threw another jar at him. He ducked, and it instead hit the monster who was advancing on Marion. It turned and made the annoying clicking noise at me. Great. Now there were two beasts who wanted to kill me.

Indy's whip came out of nowhere again, and the beast holding the spear dropped it. I slid on the white tile floor between his legs and grabbed the spear, dragging it after me. Turning around, I stabbed the thing in the back. It shrieked in pain, but turned and pulled the spear out of its back, grinning horribly and exposing hundreds of sharp, tiny teeth that could rip human flesh to shreds. Was there nothing we could do to kill them?

Once again, I was picked up. But this time instead of being thrown, the monster banged me into an ancient statue. I screamed as the stone crumbled and I fell under it; the beast was amazingly strong. Now not only were my hands bleeding, but my face and the back of my head, too. I probably looked even worse than I had when the Soviets had invaded James's house. Stumbling to my feet, I noticed a suit of armour, likely from England in the Middle Ages. The suit was complete with a sword; I ripped it out of the metal hand and held the weapon in front of me, laughing a little. I stopped smiling, though, when two monsters trudged towards me, their own weapons ready. Taking a moment to look at Indiana, I saw him with his whip still out, beating up another monster. Marion was currently in a fist fight with the remaining beast. Well, if the older people could be winning their fights, I could be winning mine too, right?

Wrong. The beast with the spear pushed me against the silver wall, his weapon point pressing against my neck. A drop of blood dribbled down onto my shirt from where he was piercing my skin. I saw Mutt's dog tag lying against my chest; it had become untucked from my shirt. While staring at it, I remembered Mutt saying I was the least likely one to get hurt. It looked like he was wrong.

Still, I wasn't going to give up my life easily. Swinging the sword at one of the monsters, I managed to cut one of his legs rather severely. He cried out and fell on the floor, and I kicked at the twitching body. The beast with the spear at my neck continued to grin though, thinking he had won, but I ducked under his reach and crawled underneath the ancient artefacts. I screamed as, one by one, they were smashed to smithereens above me. My ankle had started to bleed again, and I left a trail of blood on the clean, white tiled floor.

Suddenly, I jumped up, swinging the heavy sword at the wounded monster, which was still following me. He stumbled back, towards the silver fountain in the centre of the room. I stabbed at him again, and he tripped over one of the smashed artefacts. Everything seemed to slow down as he fell into the fountain, silver water splashing everywhere. A loud hissing noise filled the room and the smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils. I expected the monster to jump up at any given moment, but he never reappeared. Indiana seemed to figure out why.

"We have to get them into that silver water! It's their only weakness!" he cried out, still battling another beast.

"Madie! Behind you!" Marion yelled, and I turned to see the monster with the spear take a swing at me. I screamed and ducked, but I was too slow. Once again, I was thrown across the room into the wall.

I landed beside the glass case I had broken the first time. Peering inside it, I saw what looked to be the most beautiful weapon in the world; a silver bow with twelve silver arrows.

I pulled it out of the broken glass case in awe. Truly, it was amazing and entrancing. I couldn't believe what I had found. With trembling bloody hands, I notched the bow and pointed an arrow at the remaining monster that was chasing me. It spotted me and suddenly cowered in fear, falling to its knees. The other two monsters saw me and did the same thing; Marion, completely oblivious to the strange thing that was happening, pushed the beast that had been attacking her into the fountain. It died with a sizzle.

I lowered the bow unsteadily, confused and unsure. Why were the monsters all looking at me as if I was their queen?

Indiana walked over to me. "Keep the bow pointed at them. They might attack again if you put it down," he said in his low voice. I raised it again, and looked down the shaft of the silver arrow, staring at my blood-covered hands.

"What's going on?" I whimpered under my breath. Indy looked me up and down, as if the answer was in what I was wearing.

Apparently it was. Indiana started laughing all of a sudden, and Marion and I looked at him in confusion. "What?" I asked, frowning.

"This is a pretty far-fetched theory, but I think that these monsters think you're a goddess," he chuckled.

"_What_?" I said again, still confused, especially when Marion joined in the laugh-fest.

"Think about it, Madie. You have curly brown hair, you're holding up a silver bow with a silver arrow, and you've got a crescent moon tiara on your head. Know any goddesses that have all those features?" Indy smiled.

I reached up and touched the silver band, which was still resting on my forehead. "Artemis," I whispered, naming the Greek goddess of the hunt. Indiana had taught the class about the Greek gods during the first day of class. "But she's not real! She's just a myth!" I exclaimed, gripping the bow more tightly in my blood-smeared, shaking hands.

"Yeah, well, about an hour ago, if someone told you about these... _things_... you wouldn't have believed them. But now, here we are, and they're one hundred per cent real," Marion walked over to us, waving her hand at the monsters. "And we're searching for the map for Pandora's Box. That's supposed to be a myth, too."

"Are you saying the Greek gods are real?"

"No. We're saying that a lot of things you might have previously thought impossible are real," my teacher said. "Marion and I have found the Ark of the Covenant and seen it destroy a hundred Nazis. There are things even science can't explain. They're otherworldly miracles, in a way."

"These monsters aren't miracles," I snorted, and Indiana rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

I nodded. "So what now?"

"Now we get out of here," Marion said. "There's a door hidden behind a Greek statue over there," she pointed to my right.

The three of us made our way over slowly, the only sounds the crashing of the silver water into the fountain. I kept the bow pointed at the beasts, who were glaring at us in livid anger. They didn't move, though, and for that I was grateful. But in trying to keep them from attacking us, I didn't watch where I was going. All too soon, my sprained ankle couldn't keep up with my feet, and I tripped over a Roman helmet, crashing to the floor on my elbows. The monsters jumped up and rushed towards us, weapons held at the ready as Marion pulled me to my feet.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the room started to cave in.

Huge chunks of stone, plaster and tile fell from the ceiling as the place shook and rocked us back and forth. Artefacts were flying everywhere as the ground crumbled beneath our feet and the sounds of breaking stone deafened my ears. We scrambled towards the exit, screaming and yelling, the monsters still hot on our heels. Just as Indiana yanked open the silver door, I tripped again. Landing on my chest, I opened my eyes to see the golden apple I had first noticed. It was lying a few feet away. I reached for it and snatched it up, pushing myself to my feet again and dropping the bow and arrows. Leaving them where they were, I jumped through the door as Marion slammed it shut behind us. The monsters crashed into it, crying loudly, but Indy blocked the door with a wooden beam that had fallen from the ceiling. Finally, we were away from the things.

We took a few short moments to gasp for breath, but we couldn't rest long, as the place was still falling down around us. We were now in a wooden corridor, with a staircase that led up. The ceiling was caving in around us, and we raced up the stairs, breathing hard.

All of a sudden, I screamed as a poisonous dart shot out if the wall and just barely missed my nose. "Keep moving!" Indy yelled. "This was the original entrance to George Meyer's burial chamber and the treasure room; those are just ways to protect everything from grave robbing!"

We rushed up the stairs, our hair being blown around by the air coming from the darts as they were shot out of tiny holes in the wall. Unexpectedly, the crescent moon tiara on my head was knocked off. It tumbled down a couple stairs.

"Leave it, Madie!" Marion shouted, grabbing my hand and trying to tug me up the staircase, but I lurched out of her grasp and leaned down to get it. I didn't know why, but there seemed to be some sort of important quality to the tiara, and I knew that something bad would happen if I lost it.

I picked it up in my sweaty, bleeding hand, ducking out of the way as a wooden beam fell from the ceiling. Marion grabbed my wrist again and tugged me up the stairs, and we followed Indiana. I stumbled again as my ankle gave out and crumpled, and I screamed in pain as a poisonous dart caught me in the side of the thigh.

"Ahh!" I cried, pulling it out of my side. Marion dragged me up the stairs as another beam from above crashed down in the spot I had just been sitting in. The wooden stairs below us splintered and collapsed as Indy reached down and carried me up the remaining couple of steps, while I covered the place where the dart had hit me with my hands, crying. I could almost feel the poison seeping through my leg.

After what seemed like forever, but was probably more like seconds, Marion ripped open the stone door at the top of the steps. We stepped out into the blinding sunlight, surprising a tour group. A couple people screamed, and the mausoleum we had just exited crumbled into pieces behind us. I fell onto the ground, crying, but I couldn't utter a sound.

"Hey! You people aren't allowed to be in there-" the tour guide yelled, walking up to us. "You just destroyed the McGome family burial chamber!" I realized that we had exited a different mausoleum then we had entered; this one was not only on the east side of Highgate Cemetery, while the Meyer family one had been on the west, but it wasn't even a real burial chamber. Just another secret way of getting into the Meyer mausoleum and the treasure room.

"Excuse me sir, but this girl has just been hit by a poison dart," Indiana said calmly, pointing to me rocking back and forth on the ground, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing through my clenched teeth. "So if you don't mind, I'll just be taking her to the hospital," he finished, picking me up while Marion glared at the white-faced tour guide. "Have fun rebuilding that tomb," Indy added, tipping his hat at the guide. And then Marion and my teacher sprinted out of Highgate Cemetery, carrying me while the shocked tour group looked on in amazement.

xXxXx

"Your daughter will be fine, but she'll have to stay at the hospital for a couple days," I heard the nurse say to Indiana and Marion.

They had ran out of the graveyard, loaded me into the van with Jeff (who surprisingly hadn't been noticed by the Soviets) and drove me straight the nearest British hospital. Along the way, the Joneses had explained what had happened, and where James and Mutt had gone. Once at the hospital, Indiana had stormed in, creating quite a scene.

"My daughter's been poisoned!" he had yelled loudly, while Marion had very convincingly played the part of a women whose only child was about to die. She had even gotten the other people in the Emergency wing to let us go ahead of them in the waiting line. I think it probably helped that my head, ankle, face and hands were still bleeding, and I was screaming in agony.

The doctors had knocked me out while they extracted the poison and did their stuff. Indy knew one of the head doctors, too, so everything was done in under an hour. Now, he was talking to a nurse with his wife behind a curtain. I was lying in the hospital bed on the other side.

"Do you mind telling me how your daughter got into that state?" the nosy nurse asked. I smiled grimly. The Joneses had pretended I was their only child, to get things moving faster and so there were less questions asked. I vaguely wondered what Mutt would think if he were here.

It was hard to concentrate on things because of the drugs the doctors had given me, but I could clearly hear Indiana's response.

"We were hunting in the woods when my friend accidentally shot her with a poison dart. She fell down a hill, sprained her ankle, and banged her head and face against a tree. Madison then proceeded to walk into a thorn bush and stab her hands." He said this all so calmly I almost believed his ridiculous story myself.

"Ah… isn't hunting illegal?" the nurse asked, not entirely convinced.

"Did I mention we were at my friend's house, and his backyard is teeming with game? He's good friends with the queen, who lets us hunt in his yard."

"Uh. Okay," the nurse said. "Well, your daughter should stay here for a night or two. Sorry if this is inconvenient or anything," she finished, before bustling quickly out of the room.

Marion and Indiana pushed the curtain out of the way and walked over to my bed.

"Hunting? Thorn bushes?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't see you with any better excuses," Indy responded. "Come on. Let's go. We need to rescue Mutt and James. There's no way we're staying in here."

Mutt. Just his name almost sent me over the edge with worry. Where was he, exactly? Was he being treated okay? Was he hurt? Was he even alive? A pang of worry overtook me, and I sucked in some air sharply. We needed to save him before something bad happened. I was really not looking forward to giving his parents his dog tag if he died or something. I didn't want to lose Mutt; not yet. And why wasn't I worried about James?

I flung back the bedcovers and sat up. The wounds on my face and the back of my head were all cleaned up; some of them had even needed to have stitches. My hands were covered in band-aids, and my ankle was wrapped in a new thick white bandage. But when I tried to walk, I walked with a slight limp. I didn't know what the doctors had done to get the poison out of my leg, but there was a huge white bandage there now that wrapped all the way around my thigh multiple times. My best guess was that they had needed to extract some blood, and maybe even take off a layer of skin to do so.

Marion handed me a new pair of clothing to change into, and the two Joneses turned their backs as I slipped into the poodle skirt and blouse. I was, sadly, back to my old type of clothing, because I couldn't fit the pants and jeans over the bandages.

We walked out of the hospital room silently, hoping no one saw us. As it turns out, we were able to get all the way to the bottom floor before the nosy nurse that had been talking to Indiana and Marion recognized our trio. "Run!" Indy yelled as she called security. A burly man was right on my tail, trying to catch me, but I knocked over an empty stretcher on a bed, and he ran right into it. Even with my limp, I was still able to make it outside without getting close to being caught again. We all piled into the van, which Jeff was driving, and tore out of the hospital parking lot.

"So where are we going?" I asked, putting my seatbelt on.

"Costume shop," Indy replied, perfectly serious.

I cleared my throat and pretended to cough so I could cover a laugh at his expression. "Why?"

"While you were in the hospital, Jeff was doing some research. Claymore is having a masquerade party at his mansion tonight; it's the perfect opportunity for us to slip in unnoticed. But we'll still need costumes."

I smiled. This was going to be fun.

xXxXx

A/N: So, once again, you can clearly see I suck at endings.

I hope this chapter was okay. I'm starting to worry it's not very Indiana Jones-ish anymore... whatever. I try.

It is mentioned nowhere what the Greek goddess Artemis actually looks like, but I imagine her to have long, curly brown hair. A little bit like Madie. Also, keep that golden apple and crescent moon tiara in the back of your heads somewhere... they just might become more important as the story goes on ;)

I'm really excited about the ending of the next chapter. Or, maybe it will become too long and I'll have to split it into two different parts; therefore I would be excited about the chapter after the next one. Well, you'll just have to wait and see!

Reviews are awesome. Where are the reviews? Honestly, I know people are reading this. So why are there no comments? Besides the ones from Merlincrazy again; you rock. Best person _ever. _Keep reviewing; it really makes my day! Honestly!

Reviews are better than a hot make-out session with Shia Labeouf! Okay... Awkward silence from the readers... Moving on!

Yes, I got that from the person who wrote the 'Keys to Greece' Indy fic. Don't sue me; I'm crediting her. Her name is Grace, although I don't know her penname.

I don't own Indiana Jones or any of the characters related to him that you recognize... and I don't own the lyrics at the beginning. Those are from the song 'Illusion' by Kylie Minogue.

Until next time (and let's all hope that 'next time' isn't very far away)...  
Lexi  
:P


	11. Chapter 11: Masquerade

A/N: I'm putting the author's note at the begging of this chapter because I feel like it tonight. So ha.

I'm sooooooooooo so sorry I haven't updated in what seems like forever! I've had a ton of homework, blah blah blah, I'll try to update more often now. Another reason I didn't update was because _I had the worst writers block EVER._ It was seriously really, really bad. I've never had it like this. It's like a disease. So, I'm super sorry if this chapter – and the next chapter – suck. And of course, my endings. I need to take a course on how to write chapter endings.

I'm totally unoriginal. It's yet another song by Ashley Tisdale as the chapter title/lyrics at the beginning. Seriously, I'm not a huge fan or anything, I just found some of her songs worked for the intros. And this one was called _Masquerade_, so, what can I say...

I own nothing you may recognize and I don't own Indiana Jones.

I don't know when I'll get the next chapter up by. Sorry peoples!

A huge gigantic thanks that's bigger than the universe to: merlincrazy, Emily Maria (doctor-emily001), will, and ReaganAdler! It's totally awesome to finally be getting lots of reviews from lots of different people! You guys are honestly the best. But to all you others... is it really that hard to press the prettier button? The one that says 'review' or whatever?

merlincrazy: thanks so much for always being here and I hope that you like this beginning! It's not very good, I know, but this is what happens when people have writers block!  
Emily Maria: Yes, I agree, James is a butt. And I appreciate your semi-professional opinion very much!  
ReaganAdler: thanks for staying up late ;) I do that sort of stuff too! And yes, modern-day greasers are just as cool. Good luck with your stuff and protests!  
will: Ford is my favourite actor ever too. He's amazing. And yes; I do suck at endings :P

Thanks you to everyone else who is favourite-ing this story and following it! I really appreciate you guys too!

So... I still have writers block. Does anyone have any ideas for what they want to happen? I can't guarantee it's going to appear in the story, but I'll love you forever if you leave ideas. Thanks! I just want to know what you guys would like to see happen.

Lots of love  
from Lexi  
Hope you guys think it's okay!

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 11: _Masquerade_

_I don't mind trying on someone else/I won't mind seeing just how it felt/I might like changing my disguise/to make you happy_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

I had never been to a masquerade ball before, and I didn't know whether or not to be excited. I guess it didn't matter, though, because we were going there to save Mutt and James.

Although I now hated dresses and skirts, picking out a masquerade dress was one of the most exciting things I had ever done. I had never found dress-shopping so much fun.

When we arrived at the costume shop, Indiana and Jeff went off to look at the men's costumes while Marion and I went through the ladies' section. There were hundreds and hundreds of costumes and outfits to choose from; I held up a vampire costume, and then a pirate costume. Marion took them both gently out of my hands and placed them back on the rack.

"It's not a Halloween party, Madie. It's a masquerade. A _formal_ masquerade. This means you need to dress up nice, with just a little bit of costume." She held up a white and red evening dress. The bodice was a silky red color studded with rhinestones, and the bottom part of the dress was white, with a bit of red lace overtop.

"It's so pretty," I said in awe.

Marion smiled. "Well, these colors look best on me. I'm going to go try it on, alright? Call me over if you find something for yourself."

I nodded, and she happily skipped over to the back of the store, towards the change-rooms. Turning back to the racks, I spotted a couple dresses that were so nice they should've been in a high-end fashion store, not a costume shop.

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I jumped, thinking it might be a Russian, but it was just the store owner. He was a small man in his eighties, with wispy white hair and glasses, and he stood stooped over.

"Come with me. I know just what you're looking for," he said in a gravelly voice, and he hobbled back through the racks. After some hesitation, I followed close behind.

The man ran his fingers over the dresses and costumes, walking down a couple aisles, before stopping abruptly. I accidentally walked into him, but luckily the old man didn't fall over.

He pulled the most beautiful dress I had ever seen off the racks. It was simple but elegant, and was a beautiful shade of rich purple. The dress was floor-length and strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. The lower part of the bodice was made of sparkling golden beads and rhinestones, and the bottom of the dress was made of satin or silk, and it poofed out a bit. I took the dress in my hands and ran my fingers over the smooth fabric. Even the queen herself probably didn't have a dress as nice as this.

I looked up at the man. "It's beautiful. I love it, but I probably can't afford it," I smiled sadly, about to put it back on the rack. He shook his head and pushed the dress towards me.

"You can have it for ten dollars," he smiled. "Everything here is cheap for those who need these things greatly."

"I don't…" I started, but shut my mouth. He was right, in a way. I did need this dress; otherwise how else would I sneak into the masquerade? "How do you know I need this?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.

The man's eyes were kind as he told me he could sense my worry and distress, and then he led me around the store, picking out other things for my costume. Once I was done, I met up with Marion, Indiana, and Jeff, and we payed for our things. The old store owner happily sent us on our way, looking pleased with himself. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was only an hour until the party started. We changed into the outfits while Indy hot-wired a higher-end car than our van, and finally we were on our way.

xXxXx

Our car pulled up outside a huge house. The windows were at least ten feet high, and a giant stone wall surrounded the mansion and gardens. The place was made of some type of white stone (probably marble), and from the outside I could see it had three stories and huge pillars out front. There was a fountain in the courtyard just outside the entrance, and a balcony looked over everything. My mouth dropped open in amazement at the place, which looked like it belonged to a billionaire. Apparently this Claymore guy was really, really rich.

We drove right up to the front door, and got out swiftly before a man came and took our car away, parking it around back. I smiled at my companions.

Indiana was dressed as a cowboy; he had wanted a costume that he could move around in easily. Jeff was wearing a king's robes and crown. Marion looked amazing in her red and white dress; she had somehow made herself a perfect combination of angle and devil.

But as a couple people pointed out on our way in, I looked the best. I was wearing the purple and gold dress, which fit like a glove and hugged my curves in a way that really made them stand out. On my back was a set of gold wings, and I wore a gold tiara, too - I was a fairy princess, after all. My bare shoulders were covered by a purple shawl that matched my lace gloves exactly, and I wore an amethyst necklace and earrings. My brown hair, which was half up and half down, accented the entire outfit quite nicely. Marion had done my makeup fantastically, too. The finishing touches were the purple mask which covered the top half of my face. There were golden sparkles all around the edge and small golden patterns around my eyes. There was even a gold feather attached to the side, and little golden chains hanging off the bottom that slightly covered my cheeks. This was a masquerade; everyone was wearing masks. Mine was attached to the back of my head by another golden chain so I didn't have to carry it like some of the other ladies.

I walked up the steps, rather confident in my fairy princess attire, but turned around and walked right back down the stairs when I saw that the security at the door was tight. They were demanding invitations as proof that we were supposed to come to the party.

When I reached my uncle and the Joneses, Indiana smiled at me. "Going so soon?"

"We don't have invites," I whispered.

Marion shook her head. "You don't you my husband very well if you don't think he would have already prepared for this. He's gotten a hold of an original invitation and made copies for all of us." She passed me a silver card and nodded for me to go ahead. I raced back up the stairs and held my breath as the man collecting the invites read mine over. After a couple moments of tense silence, he smiled at me and handed it back, before waving me in. The others in my group followed close behind.

"Alright. We don't have much time, as everyone is required to take their masks off at midnight. It'll be strange if we four don't. So let's find the boys and get out of here quickly!" Indiana winked at me, and we all split up. I headed straight towards the food tables, my first thought to eat instead of to execute a rescue mission. I hadn't had any food since that morning. But when I saw the things on the table, I wasn't so hungry anymore.

There was octopus, and snake, and sharks all set out on a plate, along with other things like bird and pig. I hoped there were no vegetarians at the party.

I picked up a beetle of some sort and started examining it from the bottom when I noticed a man staring at me from across the room. Quickly, I set the beetle back down on the plate and wiped my hands on a napkin. Glancing at the man out of the corner of my eye, I saw him start to walk over towards me. Running around the table rather clumsily, I grabbed what appeared to be a plate of ribs and stuck a couple in my mouth. Unfortunately, I stuffed too many in, and I couldn't close my jaw.

The man, who looked to be about my age, walked up to the table I was at. "Hello," he said, with a strong British accent. I had stuffed my mouth so I didn't have to talk to him, but now I decided that maybe I should say something. I turned my back on the boy, who had blonde hair and was wearing a golden mask, and spit the ribs into a plant vase I found behind me. With a queasy feeling in my stomach, I realized suddenly that they weren't ribs.

"Hello, old chap," I said, turning back to him and smiling, hoping I had nothing in my teeth. I spoke with a British accent, deciding that maybe I would stick out less if I didn't speak like the American I was. Sadly, I had no idea how British people spoke, except I had heard a couple of them say 'chap' a few times.

"I was just admiring your beauty from the other side of the room, and I decided I had to come and talk to you," he smiled politely. I nodded and blushed.

"Thank you, sir. You don't look half bad yourself," I said. It was true, though. He was quite possibly the most handsome boy I had ever met. It wasn't rugged and hot like Mutt; it was more like male beauty.

The man laughed. "There are lots of people here who aren't British. You don't need to speak with that fake accent," he chuckled.

"What? This accent isn't fake! How dare you say that! It's a very real accent, I've had it since I was little-" I continued, hoping my British accent wasn't _that_ bad.

The boy laughed again. "Beautiful _and_ funny. That's a good combination," he said. I opened my mouth, about to say something, but then decided against it and was left gaping at him.

To save face, I stuttered out "I have to tie my shoe," (which was absolutely ridiculous because I was wearing purple high heels) and leaned down to hide my blushing.

When I straightened up again, the man was holding out a plate of gray and mushy food in shells. "Would you like some?" he asked, standing with perfect posture.

I wrinkled my nose. "Isn't that escargot? From France? We're in London," I pointed at the stuff, before deciding it was unladylike and dropping my hand quickly.

"Just because we're in England doesn't mean we can't have food from other countries," he said, putting the plate down. "But I'm surprised you knew what this was. Pretty, intelligent and funny. You may very well be one of the most talented ladies at this party." Wow, this guy really was a charmer. "Come with me. We have sandwiches over here," he walked over to another smaller table I hadn't previously noticed.

I raced over and stuffed a jam sandwich in my mouth, swallowing it awkwardly when I caught him staring at me. "Do you happen to know what the date is?" I asked, suddenly realizing I had no idea how long I had been away from home. I mean, you sort of lose track of time when you keep getting knocked out.

"Monday, September thirtieth," the boy smiled.

I had only been away from home for three days, but it seemed like forever. And I had only missed one day of school so far! Although, I had to admit it looked like I wouldn't be getting back to school for a while.

"I'm Allan Claymore. It means 'handsome one,'" the boy said.

"I thought this was a masquerade. You're not supposed to tell people who you are."

Allan laughed. "Really?"

I nodded. "Duh. That's why people wear masks. Where I come from, you don't tell anyone your name."

"Are where might you come from?" he asked. I opened my mouth to say _Bedford, Connecticut,_ but remembered that I couldn't tell him that just in case he figured out I was part of Indiana's group.

"Alaska," I said, swaying unsteadily side to side.

"That's quite interesting. I've traveled to many, many places in my twenty short years of life, but never Alaska. Tell me, what's it like there?"

"Cold," I responded. I had no idea! I've never been there either. To avoid the subject, I switched back to our name topic while picking up another sandwich. "I'm, uh, Mary," I said, using my mother's name, "and I have no idea what it means," I finished, flinging my arms out and shrugging. I dropped the sandwich in my hand, and it went flying across the room before hitting a lady dressed as a white swan in the head. I turned to stare directly at Allan, blushing. "If anyone asks, that wasn't me."

He laughed again. "You're actually quite funny. What's your last name?"

Thinking of Mutt, I blurted out "Jones," before slapping a hand over my mouth. "I mean, Jones… iana. Jonesiana."

"That's an unusual name."

I nodded. "Well, my family is from Alaska. We have weird last names over there." Suddenly, I remembered the name of the man that had kidnapped Mutt and James: Claymore. And standing in front of me was Allan Claymore. "Say, is this your house? And your party?" I asked, worried about who I was really talking to.

He laughed. "No, it's my father's. I'm only twenty years old; too young to make millions like my dad."

"Right," I nodded, and laughed nervously. Well, at least I wasn't talking to the kidnapper himself. Just his son. "Tell me, Allan, what are you supposed to be?" I asked, waving at his entirely gold costume.

"I'm the Greek sun god Apollo," he flashed me a blinding grin that made my heart skip a beat. "And you're a fairy princess, Miss Jonesiana?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what do you say to becoming _my_ fairy princess?" he smiled that one-million watt smile again. I melted, telling him that would be great. "So, how did you get invited to this party?"

"Um," I said. "Uh. My uncle… is… your gardener," I stuttered, pointing at the beautifully kept lawns outside. "He invited us to stay with him for a week in London, and yesterday he introduced us to your dad, who invited us to this party."

"Yesterday? I was with my father all day yesterday," Allan narrowed his eyes.

I laughed nervously. "Did I say yesterday? Sorry, I get confused by the jet lag, you know?"

He nodded and laughed. "Oh, right. That's understandable. But our gardener's last name is Smith…"

"Aye, well, his sister is my mother. So when mom married, her name was changed. To Jonesannie."

"Didn't you say Jonesiana the first time?"

"Yep, I just said that. Let's dance, shall we? The band is playing Mozart. I love this song," I smiled unhappily. Dammit, I was going to get caught.

"Not many people recognize this song as Mozart. You must be smarter than I first thought," Allan grinned. Whoa, it really was Mozart? I had just been guessing!

Unfortunately, when we walked onto the dance floor, Allan noticed my limp. "What's wrong with your leg?" he asked.

"Um, you see, the day before I left for England, I was riding my… sheep… with my boyfriend. And I fell off and hurt my leg," I said, swaying on my feet as I made up the lie. Wait, did the people in Alaska even have sheep?

"That's upsetting. So I suppose you live on a sheep farm?" he asked, offering me his arm, and I took it while smiling and nodding.

"The sheep in Alaska are genetically modified so they can withstand the cold," I lied, hoping it sounded okay.

Apparently it did, because Allan flashed me his heart-stopping grin again.

"Well, it's rather sad that a beautiful girl like you already has a boyfriend."

"Why is it sad?" I grumbled, offended and flattered at the same time.

"Because _I_ was hoping to be your boyfriend," he grinned, and I blushed so red I'm sure he could see it through my mask. "What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Mutt- _Henry_!" I yelped. Oh God. If I had said Mutt, would he have figured out I wasn't who I said I was?

And why had I said Mutt? It was just like when he asked for my last name and I said Jones, because I had been thinking about the greaser. Why was Mutt always to first thing that came to mind when he wanted to know names? "But we broke up. After I fell off the sheep," I finished as we started dancing.

"Ah. How lucky for me. Would you like to go on a date sometime, Miss Jonesiana?" he smiled and whispered in my ear, holding my body against his. Suddenly, the year age difference between us seemed much, much bigger as he pressed me tighter to him. I struggled against his grasp, but didn't get anywhere. If anything, he held me tighter.

"That would be lovely," I said, horrified to find I was a bit breathless. I was a bit confused as to how we were dancing, too; it certainly wasn't swing. More like a waltz of some sort, or a ballroom dance. I had no idea what I was doing.

After the song was over, I stepped away from Allan. "It's getting rather hot in here, don't you think?" I complained. He nodded.

"Let's go up to my room, where we can sit out on the balcony in the fresh air," he smiled politely, and took my hand, leading me up the stairs. The hallway was painted ivory and the carpet was blood-red; lining the corridor were doors. I wondered if Mutt was behind one of them.

Allan opened one of the doors in the centre of the hallway, and I followed him into the room. It looked like a normal bedroom: wardrobe, desk, bookshelf, bed, and a door leading to a bathroom. One of the walls was made completely of windows. Allan opened one of those windows and stepped out onto the balcony, which overlooked the courtyard and water fountain in front of the house. There were still guests arriving, and I watched them in their colourful costumes.

The cold air on my skin was refreshing, and I found I could breathe a little easier. But I needed to find Mutt and James, not stand outside with 'The Handsome One' Claymore. I was about to tell him I wanted to go rejoin the party when suddenly I felt his arms around my waist.

"The bed looks so warm, Miss Jonesiana, and you look rather cold," he whispered seductively in my ear.

I could barely breathe in horror as he started kissing my neck. Allan pushed me back into his room, while I stayed stiff as a board, paralyzed. Somehow he managed to lay me across the bed, and I gasped when he got on top of me.

"Allan - get off me," I said angrily, pushing against him. He tried to remove my mask, but I slapped his hands away.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to do this. Let me go," I mumbled, while he started kissing my jaw. "Go away!" I said, louder, but his body movements against me said he wanted something different.

"Come on, baby. You know you want this," he growled hungrily, and I pushed harder against him. Allan's fingertips moved towards my chest, and I found myself wishing I didn't have as curvy a body as I did. His kisses moved to my lips, and his mouth was sloppy and wet on mine.

"Don't tell me you've never done this before. You and Henry must have had some _fun _in Alaska," he said between kisses while I tried to get his heavy body off mine.

"As awkward as it is to admit, I'm still a virgin, Allan," I growled, turned my head to the side. "I'm waiting until I find the right person."

"I can be the right person," I felt him smile against my neck. "I plan on changing your virgin status tonight, Mary," he said, using my 'real' name.

"That's not going to happen, you bastard. Get off me, or I'll scream," I threatened. But instead of doing what I wanted, he just placed a hand over my mouth to muffle all sounds. I cried out in frustration, and bit his hand until I tasted bone, but it didn't seem to affect the boy.

"You really are quite beautiful," he whispered, smiling mischievously. Allan pulled my hair elastic out, and my curls tumbled across the bed pillows. His other hand was just sneaking down the front of the bodice of my dress when suddenly he stopped moving.

I glanced down as the vile man pulled out Mutt's dog tag, which had been hidden down my front. "Mutt Jones…" he said softly, thinking. "Now where have I heard that before…" his eyes widened in sudden realization. "You're with the greaser that dad kidnapped!" I brought my knee up into his crotch hard, and he fell of the bed, crying out in pain.

"Yes, I am, you nosebleed," I shouted, scrambling off the bed and sprinting towards the door, but Allan was back on his feet and blocking my way in seconds. I turned around and ran out onto the balcony, suddenly stopping when I realized I had nowhere to go.

"I've got you now, sweetheart," he grinned, and suddenly his smile didn't seem quite so entrancing.

"You've got to catch me first," I smiled back, popping a hip and leaning against the railing in what I thought was a sexy way. Allan ran at me, arms extended, but I stepped out of the way just as he reached me. Claymore's son toppled over the railing and fell off the balcony, yelling as he fell two stories and landed in the water fountain below. I heard him curse and splash around as I ran back towards the door and into the hallway, before racing down the stairs into the ballroom. No one noticed me as I stumbled through the crowd, looking for someone - anyone - I recognized. My fairy wings got caught on things a few times, and in frustration I threw them on the ground just as I spotted the cowboy Indiana Jones.

I stood beside him, breathing hard. "Hey," I said, trying to catch my breath. He just gave me a cold look and walked off, further into the crowd.

"Hey! It's me!" I cried out, walking unsteadily after him in my heels. Grabbing his shoulder, I spun him to face me. "Dude. It's Madie," I whispered, taking my mask off. Finally, Indy recognized me, and I put the mask back on. "We need to get out of here. Fast."

"I know, Madison."

"Scratch that. We need to get out of here _faster_," I stumbled over my words. "I, um, accidentally pushed Claymore's son into the fountain. And he knows I'm here for Mutt and James."

Indy laughed so hard I thought he was going to fall down. "You pushed him in the fountain?"

"Don't ask," I grumbled, while he wiped a tear of laughter out of his eye. "But we need to find the boys before he comes inside and tells his father they need extra security and, oh, okay, here he comes now. See you later, Indy. Hopefully," I whispered, as I spotted Allan walk through the front door. He was soaking wet and livid; the party guests around him started talking loudly and in worried tones. I climbed a staircase to get a better view of the room.

While looking at the chaos around Allan, Indiana Jones climbed the staircase behind me. "You really did a number on that guy, didn't you," he chuckled, taking in the man's tomato-red face. I smacked the side of his arm.

"It's not laughing matter, Indy! I'll explain later, okay? But right now we need to find the boys and get out of here."

"Alright. Chill, Madie. Marion and Jeff are searching the basement right now as we speak. I'll search the main floor, okay? And you can search the top floor. Let's move quickly," he finished. I nodded, and ran up the stairs and my college professor ran down.

I flung open every door on the upper level, but found nothing but bedrooms and bathrooms. None of the doors were even locked. I was really starting to worry that we would never find the boys when I saw a trap door in the ceiling. There was a long cord hanging from it, and I pulled on it. The trap door opened quickly, and a rope ladder tumbled down in front of me. I climbed up it without hesitation, and emerged in a small wooden room. At the far side of the room was a brown door; I staggered over to it, only to find it locked. I kicked it and jiggled the handle, but nothing would open the damned thing. As a last resort, I pulled one of the remaining bobby pins out of my brown hair and tied to pick the lock. Just as the pin broke, someone shoved me up against the wall.

It was Allan, of course. He was soaking wet and even angrier than ever. "What're you doing up here?" he grumbled. I said nothing, and turned away. "Throwing me in the fountain was a nasty thing to do, girl. But I haven't told my father you're here - yet. I'll offer you a deal," he smirked, pushing himself against me and pinning me between his body and the wall. "If you come with me back to my room - and my bed - without a fight, I won't tell my dad you're here. But if you don't, I'm going to have to tie you up with your boyfriend with the dog name."

"He's not my boyfriend," was all I said. Allan reached for the dog tag and ripped it off my neck.

"Then why do you have this?" he held it up. I snatched it back angrily, and clutched it in my hand so tightly my fingers turned white.

"He gave it to me. That doesn't mean we're dating," I scrunched up my nose, glaring at the blonde boy in front of me. Allan's hands suddenly started to roam up my bodice, and I squirmed, but couldn't get away from his wandering hands.

"So, what do you say to my offer?" he smiled, eyes and fingers tracing my sweetheart neckline, which he was slowly pulling lower.

"I say," I snarled, "go to hell."

He cried out in anger and grabbed my wrists, holding me against the wall. "It's too bad. We could've had a lot of fun together," he growled, and then he kissed me. His lips on mine were angry and hurtful; he bit me once or twice. I tried to get away, but he just kept hungrily kissing me. After what seemed like forever, Allan pulled away.

"Still don't want more?" he asked, eyes bright. I banged my forehead violently against his own head; he cried out in pain. "Holy crap! You practically just split my skull in half," he mumbled, to which I said nothing.

Glaring at the man resentfully, he tied my wrists behind my back roughly with a rope. I could feel the circulation being cut off from my wrists as he pulled the cord tighter and tighter. He then put a gag in my mouth, stuffing it so far down my throat I choked.

"Have fun trying to get back to Alaska. And your sheep," the bastard grinned, pulling me back down the ladder and into the hallway.

Now what? I wondered just as I heard the sounds of heavy footsteps behind me in the corridor. Rough hands grabbed me and yanked me around; I was pushed violently into someone. Stumbling, I looked up at a man who looked almost exactly like Allan, except he was older.

"Dad's not too happy your here," Allan smirked, and then the hands (I assumed they were his father's) pushed me down the hall. I struggled against them, but it made no difference.

I was led down the clean hallway, and the man kept a strong grip on my upper arm, directing my every move. Just as I was starting to fear I might never escape, I heard the sound of a whip lashing out to hit my captor on the arm. He cried out and stumbled backwards, while I ducked and ran over to Indiana, who was standing on the staircase railing.

"That's not a very nice thing to do to a lady," Indy said in his deep voice, keeping his pistol pointed at the man and the whip in his other hand while he untied my bonds and pulled out the gag. I rubbed my wrists, which had red grooves and cuts in them where Allan had so roughly tied the rope.

"Doctor Jones. Apparently you consider this young girl more important than your son and his friend," the British man who had been my captor said. He must have been the Claymore Indy had talked about.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Indiana asked.

"Well, I'm just surprised you're rescuing her while your own child is being tortured and held hostage. I would have thought you would be saving him."

Indiana laughed long and hard, finishing off my mumbling some words under his breath at the end: "."

"You're _torturing_ Mutt?" I asked in disbelief, curling my hands to fists by my side and jerking.

Claymore smiled. "Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

"That's not answering my question."

"Hmm. Clever. You would be a good addition to our team that's hunting for the map."

I said nothing, just shifted my weight from foot to foot. The only person with Claymore was his son; Indy and I could take them. My professor seemed to realize this at about the same time as me.

Our thoughts were quickly dashed when the two men were joined by three burly Russians, though. Didn't we ever get any luck?

Indiana kept the pistol pointed at Claymore, but his hand wavered. We were outnumbered, and if anyone noticed a weakness we would be dead. The only reason they didn't kill us now was because they didn't want my college professor to blow Claymore's brains out.

And just a week ago, I thought he had been nothing more than a boring teacher who wouldn't even dream of things like this.

The hallway we were standing in was huge, with tapestries and curtains hanging everywhere. There was a Claymore family crest on each of them; a red dragon fighting a white dragon. I recognized the two monsters from an English class in grade eight: the two dragons represented England and Wales. Suddenly, I got an idea.

"Why is there a dragon representing Wales on the family crest?" I asked innocently, climbing up on the staircase railing beside Indiana. "I mean, I know you're British, but where did the Whales part come from?"

Claymore chuckled. "You're very observant, girl. You're right; those dragons do represent England and Wales. You see, my great-great-great-great grandfather was a Welsh-" I jumped off the railing and leaped up to grab the bottom of one of the tapestries hanging from the ceiling. I was swinging suspended above the rowdy crowd for a few of the most terrifying moments of my life, before the fabric tore and the heavy banner fell from the ceiling, with me still clinging onto it for dear life. With a loud RRRRIIIIIPPPPP, it covered the Russians and Allan like a blanket. Indiana whipped one of the golden chains holding up another coat of arms, and it softy floated to the floor, smothering Claymore. I untangled myself from the tapestry, and Indy and I stumbled - okay, Indy ran and I stumbled - over to a small window. Pulling back the drapes, I saw that there was a ledge we could climb out onto, before crawling onto the roof to escape.

"You go first, Madie. I'll take care of them," Indiana said as the men untangled themselves from the banners. I shook my head at his ignorance and grabbed a gas lantern from the small table beside us; I threw it on the ground with everything I had. After a tiny explosion, the gas lamp erupted in flames and created a barrier of fire between Dr. Jones and I, and Claymore and the others. The tapestries on the floor started to catch fire as the men scrambled to find water to put out the flames.

During the chaos, Indiana and I slid out the window and onto the ledge. I ripped off my heels and threw them away; I couldn't walk along a three-inch-wide ledge if I was tripping. We slowly made our way over to the sloped part of the roof, where we crawled up. Indiana and I sat beside the gargoyles at the tallest part of the house, catching our breath.

"Don't you just love family vacations?" Indy chuckled, coiling up his whip and attaching it to his side again.

I smiled softly. "Actually, these past three days have been the best of my life."

"Really?" Indiana raised an eyebrow.

I nodded, "my parents would have a heart attack if they even heard of some of these things. This adventure is a nice break from dull reality."

"Huh," he snorted. "I've spent my whole life trying not to get involved in things like this. Obviously, I suck at that. It's just… be careful, Madie. This lifestyle takes complete control, and you never have time for anything else. Soon, this becomes your reality. And it's not all fun and games. We could be killed any second. Who knows; your next breath could be your last. Adventure is like a hungry animal, waiting to devour us. It's already chewed me up, spit me back out and then eaten me again. I just don't want the same thing to happen to Marion or Mutt. Or you either, Madie. But I guess we're too deep in now, huh? At least for this one adventure. Hopefully after, you can go back to your normal life." I frowned. I didn't want a normal life. "Then again," Indy continued, "you're practically part of our 'group' now. The Jones group. It seems like you were born to play this part. And, Madie? Trust me when I say there's no going back after this. You won't ever be able to have a real life again."

I rested my head on Indiana's shoulder. "But this is the life I want," I said quietly. "This is a real life. Not what people back at home think. They're cubes. They don't know that _this is what life is supposed to be like_."

Indiana smiled, and then stood up and offered me his hand. "C'mon. We better get going. We need to save Mutt and James." I nodded and stood up beside Indy and the gargoyle beside us, who had the ugliest face I could ever imagine. Just as we were turning around to figure out how to get off the roof, a clock tolled eleven o'clock.

"We only have an hour left," I exclaimed grimly.

"Then we better hurry our asses up," Indiana, who I decided was one of my favourite people in the world, said.

Finally, Indiana Jones and I headed off across the sloped roof to find a way to rescue his son and James.


	12. Chapter 12: Lions!

A/N: I'm putting the note at the beginning again. Just cause.

So... this is defiantly one of the worst chapters I've ever written. Everything is just so anti-climax. I had writer's block, okay? Don't shoot me! I promise things will get better. And just because I say this sucks, doesn't mean you shouldn't read it. It's just a warning not to get your hopes up.

Shout outs to: _Merlincrazy, Will, _and Emily Maria. Thank you guys so much for reviewing! Thanks so much for all your kind words. It means a lot to me. And Will, the birthday thing is pretty awesome :P

To everyone who reads this, please review! It would be awesome. And I'll give you a cookie

Okay. I'm going to shut up now. My closing words will be that the chapter title/song lyrics at the beginning are by Lights, and I don't own it. Also, I don't own Indiana Jones or anything you may recognize.

The part where Mutt points at his elbow and says it doesn't hurt there, and then Marion and Indy laugh... well, they laugh because it's just like a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Just in case you didn't know.

Until next time (and let's hope that next time the chapter will be better, and that next time will come soon!)  
Lexi 3

P.S. Although the chapter is called Lions! there are no lions in this chapter. Sorry xD

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 12: _Lions!_

_Lions make you brave/giants give you faith/death is a charade/you don't have to feel safe to feel unafraid_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

After crawling around on top of the roof for a good ten minutes, I finally found another open window, which Indiana and I crawled through. It ended up leading into a locked, wooden, and empty room; the same room I had been trying to get into when Allan had caught me. Indy busted down the door (with his bare hands; he's a tank), and we scrambled down the ladder into the hallway quickly. After sneaking along the corridor, we found the spot where our small fire fight with Claymore and his minions had taken place. There were ashes and the entire carpet was burning, but everything was wet also. It looked like the men, who were no longer there, had gotten the fire put out rather quickly.

Downstairs, the party was still going strong. Apparently no one had noticed the smell of smoke. Indiana and I spotted Jeff and Marion standing beside the sandwich table. We headed towards them as soon as we saw that no one was watching us or following us.

"Did you find the boys?" Indiana asked Marion hurriedly. I almost didn't hear her answer (which was a rather depressed 'no') because I was too busy looking around us at the security at the doors. They were letting people in now without even presenting invitations, but the security men still looked ready for action. I was starting to wonder if their real purpose at the doorway was really to make sure no one bad got in.

"How are we going to find them?" Jeff asked Indy about the boys. "What if they're not even here?"

"They're here, all right. I know it," Indiana fixed his hat on top of his head; the famed fedora matched his cowboy costume just fine.

"What if…" I started, but then closed my mouth.

"What is it, Madie?" Marion looked at me.

"Ah, nothing. It's a stupid idea. Never mind."

"No, any ideas are fine," Jeff frowned grimly. "What was it you were going to say?"

There was a sparkle and shine in my eyes as I told the older people my theory. "What if the security isn't there to make sure the wrong people don't get in? What if the security is there to make sure the wrong people don't get out?"

"You mean like, they would let us in here on purpose so that they could trap us?" Jeff tilted his head a bit to the side and tapped his foot.

"No, I mean that maybe we're looking for Mutt and James in all the wrong places. They could be standing right in front of us."

Indiana grinned. "The girl's got a point. She might have just found the solution to the problem." When Marion and Jeff looked at him quizzically, he elaborated a bit more. "Claymore mentioned that he wanted Mutt and James to be treated like kings. And how could that happen if they were locked up while there was a party going on? Claymore knew they might try to escape, so he put security near all the exits. The boys are stuck here in the middle of this masquerade."

"So why don't we just wait until midnight, when everyone has to take their masks off? Then we can find them simply!" Marion exclaimed.

Indiana shook his head. "Claymore will probably remove them from the ballroom before that happens; he knows we're here, and he doesn't want the boys to go free. I don't know when he'll take them out of the party, but we don't have much time."

"Then let's just split up and look for them," I said. "It'll be difficult because everyone is wearing masks, but I'm sure we can do it. Alright?"

Everyone nodded, and I smiled. Finally, our tiny group dispersed. I was left beside the food, and I shoved a couple sandwiches into my mouth before heading off to look for the boys.

I peered into the face, mask and eyes of every man and woman I passed. We were just guessing with this 'they're at the party' theory, and there were hundreds of guests. It was going to take us forever just to figure out what they were wearing.

I found my golden wings and put them back on; it would look a little bit strange if I didn't have all of my costume. Just as I was putting the wings on, I spotted a man standing by the exit. He looked to be about the same height as Mutt, and he had the same hair color. It just had to be him. I made my way over carefully, looking around to see if there were people watching him to make sure he didn't escape. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure it was Mutt. As it turned out, it wasn't. The tiny bit of hope left in me fluttered away like a butterfly, leaving me empty. There was no way we were going to find the boys in this fray!

I saw Indiana and Marion looking about in vain too. Jeff was over by the food table, and I could see he wasn't having any more luck than the rest of us. I found myself clutching Mutt's dog tag, which I had replaced around my neck after I had taken it back from Allan. It was warm, because it had been lying against my clammy skin, and it smelled faintly like Mutt. It gave me some comfort, although not much.

All of a sudden, I spotted a man whom I knew without a doubt was James. He had black hair and glittering eyes behind his owl mask, and he was being led down a side hallway by two of the Russian thugs that I recognized. I quickly followed behind them, keeping in the shadows and out of sight. Ducking behind plants and tapestries, the men walked down a set of stone steps. I reluctantly went down the stairs after them; it felt awfully boxed in and dangerous in there. Someone could sneak up on me, and I would have nowhere to go.

I trailed my fingers along the wall as I walked slowly down into another hallway lined by red carpets and coats of arms. Unfortunately, I had lost track of which door the Russians and James had gone into. There were at least ten closed doors lining the walls; opening the first one, I found nothing but a table and chairs. Cautiously, I walked down the rest of the hallway, opening each door quietly. I was not looking forward to having the Soviets find out I was there if I made too much noise...

I opened three doors, but without any luck. Finally, upon opening the fourth, I found what I was looking for. James sat in the middle of a beautifully decorated room. There was a bed, and a washroom, and bookshelves lined with classics. It looked like the 'prisoners' were actually being treated very well.

"James!" I whispered harshly, and he turned to regard me in surprise. "Quick, let's get out of here before those Commies come back!"

He ran over to me and took me in his arms, his eyes shining. "Madie? It's you, right?" he asked, and I took off my mask. He smiled widely and held me tighter. "I can't believe you're here! Thank God you're okay! I was so worried when they said they were leaving you in that secret room. How did you get out?" he asked, his voice rushed.

"Now's not the time for stories, James! We need to get out of here right now," I said, trying to step out of his embrace and tug him out of the room.

Suddenly, the preppy leaned down and kissed me. It wasn't like I didn't want him too; I still had feelings for the man. We had kissed lots of times before. But this time, something was different. I kept my eyes open and my hands curled into fists at my sides, and didn't do anything at all. He got no reaction from me. Instead, I stayed as still as I had when Allan had tried the same thing.

James pulled away, taking his mouth off mine. He smiled at me. "I love you," the letterman whispered, and then pressed me tighter against his chest, resting his chin on my head. I stood there stiffly, trying to keep my mind on anything but James - and Mutt. For some reason, the greaser kept invading my thoughts whenever I looked at James.

"We need to go," I said, and my voice was muffled and sounded stuffy against James's letterman jacket. He finally let go of me, but rested his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

"Madison, I'm not so sure that we're on the right side in this fight. The Russians aren't going to use Pandora's Box for world domination. They just want to make sure the other Superpowers of the world don't get a hold of it. I think we should help them in their search for the map."

I gaped open-mouthed at the boy. "_What?_"

"It's safer with them too. The Jones family - especially that Mutt guy - are unpredictable, violent people. The Russians don't want to kill people. We should stay with them and Claymore."

I pounded my fists into James's chest and my cheeks reddened. "You're wrong! They've brainwashed you or something; don't listen to them! And Indiana is perfectly trustworthy, as is his son. You can't just go around saying bad things about them. Mutt is a perfectly fine, safe man."

James shook his head. "He's a greaser. Greasers are violent and impetuous. You know this, Madison! That's what you've been taught back at home! Greasers are people who should be avoided."

"Oh, that's just great. Now we're back at this stupid preppy vs. greaser argument. Well, it's stupid. Greasers aren't bad! They've brainwashed you, James. Don't listen to Claymore."

"Madison, had Indiana ever really confided in you about anything, or told you the truth?"

"Yes. I think."

He sighed. "But not the_ whole_ truth, at least. Madison, why don't you believe me? I love you, okay, and I just want you to be safe! So please just stay with me and Claymore, or go back to the States. It's safer with the Russians than it is with the Joneses. No one shoots at the Soviets except Indiana. The Jones family is made up of dangerous people. Don't you love me too? Don't you trust me enough to know that I only want the best for you?"

I was silent, staring at my bare feet and purple dress. I wanted to say 'yes, James has a point,' but I couldn't. There was something about it that all seemed so wrong… No. I couldn't turn my back on everyone. It wasn't right. I trusted the Joneses, and so did my uncle. Jeff was my own flesh-and-blood; he wouldn't trust Indiana without a legitimate reason. Besides, he had said he had known Indy ever since he had been a kid. They went to university together. I knew without a doubt that my uncle never made friends with messed-up people. So why couldn't James trust the Joneses?

I took a deep breath. "Yes… But I'm not going to let you stay with the Soviets." My stomach seemed to twist at the next sentence, and I didn't understand why. "And yes, I do still love you, James." There. I said it out loud. Even though we had been going out two years ago, I was still in love with James. But it was starting to seem like he was less of the man I thought he was. The preppy wasn't the guy I wanted him to be. And the guy I wanted him to be was more like my greaser…

_My greaser_. Damn, I still had to find and save Mutt! "Let's go. Now," I grumbled, grabbing James's hand and tugging him out of the bedroom. He protested only a little, and we ran down the hallway and up the stone steps while I put my mask back on. Luckily, no one caught us.

We emerged into the busy party, breathing hard. Everything was a bright mess of color that hurt my eyes as James and I ducked through the crowds. "Do you know what Mutt was wearing?" I asked him.

Something about the way I said it made his eyes turn cold, as if he didn't like the fact I wanted to know about the greaser. "No," the preppy answered stubbornly, and I knew without a doubt that he did know, he just wasn't going to tell me. Did he really hate Mutt that much?

I spotted Indiana in the crowd, and I waved the older man over and he smiled when he spotted James beside me. "Ah. Good. Now we just need to find Mutt and get out of here," we glanced at the clock, which said we had ten minutes until midnight - when everyone was supposed to take their masks off. Had time really flown that fast?

I split away from Indy and James, looking around in haste for my greaser, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Why was he so damned hard to find?

I found myself clutching his dog tag in my hand again. If only it could lead me towards him, I thought, but he didn't suddenly magically appear. Although, I did get an idea. He was Indiana Jones's son, right? So he would probably be trying to escape. Maybe we were looking in the wrong place. Sort of.

I ran outside, and the cold almost-October air hit me violently in the face. I was freezing my butt off in my dress; I hoped I wouldn't have to be outside for too long.

I stood on the patio out back of the mansion, looking around at the guests mulling about out there. There weren't very many, because of the cold, but there were enough that I wasn't able to get a clear view of anyone. There were guards watching every exit off the balcony; even if we did find Mutt, how were we going to get out of here?

I stood leaning on the patio railing, beside a man of about my age. I didn't talk to him because I was afraid he might be another guy like Allan, but as fate had it, he talked to me.

"Nice night, huh?"

I nodded silently, turning away and trying to tell him to stop talking to me, but the man continued.

"Say, I need to get out of here to visit my girlfriend, who's in the hospital, but the guards won't let me past. Don't know why. Think you can help?" he asked, and a slow smile spread across my face. I recognized this man's voice. And now that I thought about it, the curve of his shoulders seemed kind of familiar. And the way his hat was tilted to obscure his face, along with the way he stood, leaning against the railing. The man's height and body build were recognizable, too.

My smile turned into a grin. My hunch had been right. I sidled up beside him, grabbing his wrist. "Let's go, Jones," I whispered in his ear. He glanced at me in confusion, and I lifted my mask off my face a little. "It's Madie."

Mutt – my greaser - smiled and took me in his arms, holding my waist against his much like James had done, but this time I didn't find it quite as repulsive. In fact, I liked it. Mutt leaned down and touched his nose gently against mine. "You look gorgeous tonight, doll."

I said nothing, and almost laughed when I realized Mutt wasn't even dressed up for the masquerade. He still had on his white t-shirt, leather jacket, jeans with the rolled-up cuffs, boots, and his hair was still fashioned pomade-style. The only thing different about him was his mask, which was a red clown mask. But I could still tell it was defiantly him, because of the gorgeous twinkle in his hazel-brown eyes.

Mutt smiled and tugged me after him inside the mansion. I spotted Marion first, and we rushed towards her. She seemed to understand I had found her son without a word, so we met up with Jeff. Indiana and James were standing at the door, whispering. They were trying to figure out how to distract the guards.

"Why do we have to rescue _him?"_ Mutt sneered as we neared them. I stomped on his foot.

"Why do we have to rescue _him?"_ James posed the same question, and I slapped the side of his arm. He just snaked an arm around my thin waist and pulled me closer against him. Mutt's face went bright red, and he grabbed my wrist, trying to tug me back closer to him. Ah. It was good to have the two boys back.

"How are we supposed to get past all this tight security?" Marion asked, while Mutt explained that he had tried (and failed) multiple times.

"We'll need a distraction," Jeff said in his soft voice.

"I can do that," I chirped. "Let's use a door with minimum security. Like that one over there," I pointed at a side door with only one guard.

"What are you going to do, love?" James said just to annoy Mutt.

I shrugged. "Set fire to something. Get drunk. I'll think of something."

Everyone started making their way towards the door, except for me, Mutt and James. "Don't do anything too rash or dangerous, alright?" the preppy kissed me on the lips. Mutt looked ready to break something, and I sent the two on their way. I heard them bickering explicitly once they thought I was out of earshot.

Indiana and the others hid just around the corner while I talked to the guard. We had picked the perfect man: he was my age, and looked new at this job. He was sweating like a pig and glancing around nervously.

I glided up beside him, putting all my charm into one smile. "Hello," I said in a seductive voice, and he gulped worriedly when he saw me.

"What can I do for you, miss?" the man asked.

"I was just wondering what a wonderfully strong gentleman like you was doing, guarding this door?" I said, placing my hand on his arm and batting my eyelashes. I didn't know why, but it had worked at getting all the boys back home. I wasn't popular for nothing.

"I have to make sure that robbers don't get into the building," the man said shakily.

"Oh, really? Doesn't it get incredibly boring?" I pretended to hang onto his every word.

"A bit, I guess."

I breathed lightly on his neck. "I'll stay here and keep you company."

"That's great and all miss, but I need to concentrate on my job," he stuttered.

"Aw, come on. You can have a visitor. Why not get us a drink, and then we can hang here while you protect the defenceless girls like me? I love men who are strong and can take care of a woman. Like you," I purred, kissing his cheek slowly.

"Al-alright. One drink," he gulped, looking around with a feverish tint in his eyes. "Stay here and make sure no one gets in and out while I grab us some wine, okay?" the guard said.

"You're a dear," I batted my eyelashes again. The poor guy walked away, and I signalled for Jeff, James and the Joneses to sneak out the door with me right away. That had seemed almost too easy, and not exciting enough. Well. I was ready for a break from craziness for once.

We made it outside just as the clock tolled midnight. It was October now; an entirely new month. Hopefully, we would have more luck this time around.

"We'll get the car, alright? Madie, stay here," Indiana said.

"What? Why?"

He nodded at the leg that I was limping on. "It needs rest," was all he said, before trudging off towards the back parking lot. Everyone followed him, except Mutt. When James noticed this, he stopped and started to walk back, but Jeff made him come with them towards the car. The preppy sent my greaser a look that could kill, before rushing towards the car. Mutt flipped him off behind his back.

"So. Um," I stuttered, now that we were alone.

"You look eater disgruntled, doll. What's happened since I've been gone?" he asked, and his eyes were kind and warm; I melted and told him everything, from the strange creatures in the treasure room to Allan trying to rape me. Before I had found Mutt on the patio, I had decided never to tell anyone about the golden apple and the moon tiara, but something was just so trustworthy about Mutt. And I had promised myself never to mention anything about Allan, ever, but I couldn't help it. I wanted Mutt to hold me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay. But I knew it wouldn't be, so I stood in one place during the entire story.

Mutt was livid after I told him about Claymore's son. "How could anyone do that? That's absolutely -" he huffed, bouncing up and down on his feet. "If I ever get my hands on that guy…" he trailed off, leaving the threat open. I looked at the ground, needing Mutt's warm embrace, but not getting it. For some reason, he seemed to be staying away from me.

My greaser kicked the dirt beneath his boots, sending earth flying everywhere. I was about to tell him that it was nothing to worry about, and that I was fine, when I saw the guard I had spoken to standing in the doorway. He was looking at us, and there was a blonde man beside him, who he was talking to.

Speak of the devil. Allan.

I grabbed Mutt's leather-jacketed arm and tugged him around the corner of the house. "They've spotted us!" I exclaimed worriedly, eyes wide. Mutt's worry mirrored my own, and we glanced back towards where we had just been standing. There were agitated voices shouting and flashlights started to sweep across the yard.

"Run, babe. I'll hold them off," Mutt frowned grimly. I started to head towards the parking lot, but stumbled and fell flat on my face in the mud. Mutt picked me up gently and set me back on my feet. "On second thought, I'll come with you," he chuckled, and I glared at the greaser.

We ran off towards the parking lot, hoping to find Indiana before the Russians and Claymore found us. Unfortunately, we had no idea where the parking lot was, and we ended up running into the rose garden. Just as we were passing by some white roses, Mutt noticed the way I was running.

"Madie, why are you walking with a limp?"

"It's nothing. I'll explain later."

"No, explain right now, baby. It's not 'nothing.'"

"It's a long story, okay? It's fine."

"It's not fine! Why are you limping, babe?"

I shamelessly lifted my dress up ridiculously high so he could see my exposed ankle bandage. But what really made him gasp were the layers and layers of thick, white bandages covering my entire thigh.

"Oh. Right. I forget you said you got shot in the leg, doll. Are you okay?" he asked, and I noticed for the first time that my blood was starting to seep through the cloth. It looked like the injury was worse than I thought.

"Yes, Mutt. It doesn't hurt. I'm okay."

We continued running in silence; at least Mutt stopped asking me questions. But the limp wasn't helping me avoid the flower bushes, and I tripped and fell into a rosebush. As my greaser was helping me out of it and I was picking the thorns out of my bleeding hands, a shadow fell over us.

"I see you've found your dog-boyfriend. Maybe you can give him his collar back."

I chocked back a small sob. Was Allan never going to leave me alone?

Mutt stood up suddenly and unexpectedly. "You're the guy who tried to rape Madie," he said, and it wasn't an accusation. Mutt was angry, and he knew who he was talking to. Uh oh. I could see where this was going.

"It wasn't rape. She wanted it."

"Yeah, right. I don't believe a word, you bastard. How can you live with yourself, trying to get some from random girls?"

"It's actually quite nice. I'm sure you wouldn't know though, nosebleed," Allan said, looking Mutt up and down. "You've probably never gone all the way with a girl."

I stood up, about to say something, when Mutt punched Allan across the jaw. The blonde Brit reeled back, but he recoiled with a kick to Mutt's crotch. My greaser fell over a bit, but stayed on his feet.

He punched Allan in the nose one, two, three times, and blood covered the preppy's face. Good. He deserved it. But in retaliation, he smacked Mutt across the jaw so hard he fell on his butt, a surprised look on his face. His lip was spilt and bleeding, and as he struggled to get up Allan punched him in the face. Now both men were bleeding badly; I tried to pull Mutt away, but he slipped out of my hands. The greaser punch Allan in the stomach again just as two lights, which seemed more like demons more than anything else, suddenly illuminated the blood and roses on the ground. A car pulled up beside us, and someone hopped out. They reached for me, and I threw my whole body into a punch, knocking my attacker backwards.

"Ow! Madison, it' just me!" James called out from the darkness where the person I had attacked had fallen. Whoops. I had punched him when I thought he was a Soviet. "Are you alright?" he asked, grabbing me and 'protecting' me from Allan and Mutt, who were still in the middle of a fighting match.

Indiana got out if the car he had driven over the rosebushes, and dragged Mutt into the black sedan. I followed close behind, and James came after us. We piled into the car and drove off, finally leaving the masquerade and Claymore behind as Allan shouted angrily, waving his arms and shaking his fist.

No one spoke as Indy peeled out of town and just kept driving as far away from London as he could. Eventually, the silence became too much for me. I reached out and touched the wound on Mutt's lip, and tried to wipe some of the blood of. He shuddered under my touch.

"Ow," the greaser said resentfully and dully.

I felt James's arms suddenly slide around my waist, about to pull me back from Indiana and Marion's son, but I elbowed the preppy in the stomach. "Leave me alone," I mumbled angrily, turning back towards Mutt.

I ran my fingers gently over a cut on his nose, and he flinched in pain. In the bumping car, I slipped and fell on him and my shoulder knocked into his chest and stomach; he hissed in pain and tried to squirm out from under me. "Stop touching me," he complained. "Everything hurts."

"Really," I frowned, continuing to run my fingers over his blood and wounds. My wandering hand found the tiny scar on his right cheek that he had gotten last summer; Mutt suddenly went very still when I touched the raised skin. "Does that hurt?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

I sighed in exasperation. "Well, where doesn't it hurt?"

He seemed to contemplate and consider this deeply for a couple moments, before he rolled up the sleeve of his leather jacket and pointed to his elbow. "Here."

Something about this made Indiana and Marion roar with laughter so hard that Indy had to pull over to avoid crashing, and I couldn't help but wonder why as I rolled my eyes. "Well, thanks for beating up Allan. I guess. You really didn't need to."

"Madie, he-" Mutt started, about to rant about what he had done, but I covered his mouth with my hand and put a finger to my lips, signalling to him to be quiet. Luckily, the greaser actually heeded my warning and shut up. I just didn't want anyone else to know.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence, until we pulled up in front of a five-star hotel in the middle of what seemed like nowhere to me. Indiana explained that he had a friend who owned the hotel, and that friend owed him a favour, and he would have to let us stay there for a night. Marion told us that we could get cleaned up and have a good sleep before leaving right away in the morning for the airport, where we could catch a flight to Paris, France. I smiled at this. I had never traveled before I met the Joneses, and yet here I was now, flying across Europe! And to Paris, too. One of the most famous cities in the world.

We entered the hotel. No one was in the lobby, which was just as well: I mean, Mutt looked like he had just been beat up. Well, he had been. But it would have raised unwanted suspicions.

Jeff and Indy exchanged a few words with the desk clerk, before turning back to the rest of our group. "The hotel is rather booked tonight," Indiana started, "and they only have three rooms they can lend us. Each room only has one bed in it, so I suggest that I go with Marion, Madie goes with her uncle, and James and Mutt share a room."

Both boys blanched and reeled backwards at the same time. "Like hell! Gramps, there's no way I'm ever going to share a bed with that nosebleed," Mutt yelled.

"I'm not sharing a room with a dirty, bloody, violent greaser!" James complained just as loudly.

"Well, where do you suggest you sleep?" Indiana asked, crossing his arms.

"I'll go with Madison," James said proudly, puffing out his chest. Mutt rolled his eyes.

"Never. How do we know you're not going to try to get some from her or something?" the greaser asked. I stepped back a little bit in shock and surprise.

"That's ridiculous. I would never try and do something like that. It's more than likely that would be you, bastard. You're the one who's always trying to get closer to her."

"I am not! Listen up, kiddo. You do not get to share a room with Madie," Mutt clenched his teeth.

"Um, guys?" I said meekly, but they took no notice of me. "You're talking about me as if I'm not here."

James glared at Mutt. "Are you suggesting I go with Jeff? While you get an innocent in your untrustworthy grasp?"

"You take that back! I'm not untrustworthy, and you just hate me because I'm the only thing between you and Madie. And because I'm a greaser. Well, newsflash! She doesn't even like you that much. Haven't you even seen the way she looks at you sometimes?"

James sneered. "Well, it's better than the way she looks at you."

"Boys, I don't think you should be fighting…" Marion started, but no one listened to her just like no one had listened to me.

"I'm going with Madie," Mutt pointed at himself in emphasis.

"There's no way that's ever going to happen. You can go with your parents or something, and Madison can stay with her uncle. I'll take the last room. _Or_ I'll go with her. But you aren't allowed to go with her yourself!"

"Says who?" Mutt leaned forwards a bit.

"Says me!"

"Why don't we just ask the lady who she would prefer to share a room with?"

"Alright," James huffed. "But don't be surprised when she picks me."

"She's not going to pick you, nosebleed," my greaser rolled his eyes.

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

_"Shut up!"_

Both men looked at me in surprise at my outburst – it had been me who had yelled the last thing so violently. My face was red and my hands were curled into fists at my sides as I launched into an explanation: "I'm sick and tired of you two always fighting! It's all you ever do, and it's starting to get old. Always fighting over me and who I like more, who I'm going to pick, and everything in between! Why can't you just act your ages and stop bickering like children? I'm not some object you can share or wrestle over.

"James, you're such a snob. All you ever do is tell everyone how great you are, and rub things in Mutt's face. It's mean, and self-centered. You think you're so much better than everyone else, and that you're going to get everything you want without even trying. What happened to the kind, helpful preppy I knew back when you still lived in the states?

"And Mutt, you're not much better! You're violent, rash and unpredictable. I sometimes wonder if you're going to hit me. I don't always feel safe around you, and it's more than a bit scary. Also, you make fun of me all the time and never appreciate anything I do for you or anyone else. You're always angry with me, too, and seem to make a hobby of yelling. What did I ever to do make you hate me? And why do you always fight over me with James if you don't like me and you can't stand me? My best guess would be that you're trying to prove something to yourself, or you just want to make James angry because he's a preppy and you don't like Joe College guys.

"Right now, I'm not liking either of you two very much. The shouting matches and fist fights are getting annoying and stupid. You men are like two year olds! Why can't you just fricking agree on something and stop arguing over me? And no, agreeing to disagree does not count. I'm not that important, alright? Why do you guys care so much? Now if you two nosebleeds will excuse me, I'm going to sleep outside, because I can't even stand to look at you!" I shouted, my face red, and then I turned on my heel and stormed out of the hotel into the frigid October night.

There was a small brick two-foot-high wall outside of the hotel, and I sat on it heavily, sighing. My tiny outburst had drained me of what little energy I had left. Was it really just a little more than a day ago that I had gone on a car chase through London?

My shoulders shook, and I blinked back tears. What was I doing here?

Someone sat down on the wall beside me, and I jumped, but it was simply Marion. "You just need some girl time, don't you, Madie?" she said softly, and I nodded, biting my lip and resting my head on her shoulder. We sat in silence for a couple minutes, and I let a tear or two slip down my cheeks. Marion stroked my hair, looking out at the dark street in front of us.

"It's hard, isn't it? Dealing with all this danger and adventure all of a sudden," she said calmly after a while. I nodded, and she went on. "You're used to a life of complete security, and suddenly anyone here could pull out a gun and kill you. Back home, people cared about you. Now no one gives a damn whether you live or die."

"Yeah," I said, sitting up straight. "My parents always sheltered me. I never knew what life was really like until now. And it's hard; life is hard. Things that were important at home mean nothing out here."

"I know just how you feel. And it's hard for you, too, especially because this is the first time you've been through things like this. But Madie, we're here for you. Indiana and I will be here if you need us, okay?"

I sniffed, and wiped away a tear. "Thank you. For everything."

She chuckled. "We're not out of this yet, Madie. If I'm correct, we still have more than half of an adventure to pass through. And it only gets harder."

I smiled. "My parents would kill me if they knew what I was doing. They think no one should be running around the globe, chasing after keys and Russians, let alone _me_. I'm their perfect daughter whose biggest problem is what to cook for dinner. I'll never be able to get back to normal anymore. There's no way I can wash dishes when I've had adventures like this. My parents would freak if they knew I was talking to greasers, let alone rescuing my kidnapped friends." I blew a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "My mother wouldn't let me do anything I wanted to. Marion, you're more like a mom to me than my birthmother."

"Thanks, Madie. You're like my second daughter."

"Second?"

"Yes. Mutt is my first," she finished, and we shared a laugh. It was true; Marion was the best mom I could ever have. And my college professor was like a father. Which seemed kind of creepy, in a way…

"You're right, Madison. James and Mutt are getting rather annoying with all their fighting over you," Marion said. "But it's just because they like you. Quite a lot, actually."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. Mutt hates me. He's always yelling and getting angry."

"That's just his cover-up. He's trying to hide the fact that he's falling in love. He doesn't understand how to cope with it."

"Falling in love?" I scoffed. "You must be wrong. He doesn't like me at all."

"He's my own son, Madison. I think I can tell when he's fallen really hard for someone. Just the way he looks at you makes it obvious he thinks you're the centre of his universe. And, right now, you are. He just gets jealous of James, and that's why he fights. Because you always seem to choose James over him, and it's hurting Mutt."

I folded my hands in my lap. "I still don't believe you. Mutt doesn't like me _that way._" But inside of me, I was praying it was true. _Could _it be possible that Mutt liked me? Because then my feelings towards him would be mutual. Maybe he would actually put his arms around me when I needed him. I wished with all my heart Marion knew what she was talking about. But deeper inside me, I was scared. What was going to happen when I got back to the States? What if he really was in love? I didn't know how to act around a greaser! And what if I fell for him, too? The biggest question, though, was simple: What about James? I still loved him, didn't I?

As if Marion could read my mind, she smiled. "You're falling for my son, aren't you, Madie?"

"Maybe…" I trailed off softly, looking at the dark road and avoiding her gaze. I couldn't admit it to myself - it just seemed to make everything more final. Was I falling in love with Mutt Jones?

"But you're in love with James too," she said in a tone of voice that told me she already knew the answer. I said nothing, and instead stared at my hands. She was right; I was in love with James. So why did that make me feel so guilty?

"It's quite alright to love two men. Don't worry. Just make sure you choose the right one when the time comes," she finished, standing up and stretching. I wiped away the final tears, and we walked back inside the hotel together.

Indy, Jeff, Mutt and James were still standing in the same spots we had left them in. I wondered if they had done anything at all while I was gone; the two younger men still looked rather pale and shell-shocked at my outburst.

"James was kind enough to say he would stay in the same room as Jeff, and therefore he ended the argument," Indiana said suddenly. Ah. So they had spoken.

"Yes. I've decided that you're right, Madison; the greaser and I fight too much. So I'm giving up a bit to show that I understand what you were speaking about," James said, his chin held high in the air. Bah. He was still acting like a snob.

"_The greaser_ has a name," Mutt grumbled, jerking his hands into his leather jacket pockets.

"I guess that means I'm sharing a room with Mutt," I shrugged, trying to act like I didn't care, while on the inside my stomach was doing somersaults and cartwheels. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Jones," I said when I caught Mutt grinning nastily at James. "It's not a competition."

Marion smiled as if she knew I would end up in the same room as Mutt all along, and then we all climbed the staircase to our next-door rooms on the seventh floor. My greaser and I took the one farthest from the staircase.

I wanted to take a shower and get the smell of Allan off me, but I was so exhausted I felt ready to pass out. The queen-sized bed in the room looked more comfortable than a cloud; I flung myself on it, curling up into a ball on my side. I heard a thump as Mutt grabbed a pillow off the bed and then laid his leather jacket on the floor; he lay down on it and was silent as I turned off the only light in the room. At least Mutt had the decency to sleep on the floor while I got the bed.

The room was dead silent, but I couldn't fall to sleep. Something seemed wrong.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Mutt?" I called out into the darkness.

"What?" he responded in a tone of voice that let me know he was wide awake.

"Come up on the bed. I can't fall asleep with you on that hard floor."

"I'm fine, Madie. You can have the bed. You're the one who was shot in the leg, baby."

"Mutt, honestly, it doesn't hurt anymore. And I don't need this whole bed to myself," I rolled my eyes in the dark.

"You don't need me taking up all the space, doll. The floor is fine."

"No, it's not okay. It's cold as hell and solid as a rock."

"From what I've heard, hell isn't cold."

"You understand what I'm trying to get at, nosebleed. I won't let you sleep down there. The bed is big enough for the both of us."

"I'm fine on the floor. Go to sleep, babe."

"Holt shit, Mutt. Stop arguing with me and get your fat ass up on this bed before I punch you in the face and then hand you back to the Russians!" I exclaimed angrily, tired of him always fighting and arguing.

Mutt scrambled to his feet in seconds, as if he was suddenly scared of me. Well, it was my second angry outburst of the night. He threw the pillow he had on the floor back onto the bed, and hung his leather jacket on the bedpost. Finally, he climbed under the covers and lay on the edge of the mattress, his back facing me.

Now that he was actually _in bed_ with me, there was an awkward silence.

"I'll just, uh, stay on this side," he said, stuttering.

"Yeah. Okay," I responded, unsure what to say. We both lay on the very farthest edges of the bed, as far from each other as you could get. Even our backs were facing each other.

I heard him take out his stiletto knife and start flipping it around in his hands nervously.

"Put that damned thing away!"

"Sorry, Miss." And then we both finally fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13: Who Says

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 13: _Who Says_

_Who says/who says you're not perfect/who says you're not worth it/who says you're the only one that's hurting_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

I woke up in Mutt's arms.

We fell asleep as far as possible from each other on the bed, with our backs facing each other. But we woke up pressed against each other, interlocked in an embrace. He had my head tucked under his chin, and my face was lightly resting against the smooth skin on his neck. My fingers were spread out against his chest, my arms folded up between us, and Mutt's arms were wrapped around me, holding me tightly to him. Our legs were tangled up, too, and I awoke with a small smile on my face.

I breathed in Mutt's smell deeply, committing it to memory. I could feel him breathing beneath my hands, and our hearts were beating in sync with each other.

Just as I was starting to really enjoy being pressed against my greaser like this, 'Madison' took over. She was disgusted; what had possessed her to actually start liking a greaser, let alone sleeping in the same bed as one? My slight happiness was ruined as Madison forced me to scramble out from under to bedcovers and stumble away from Mutt, into the bathroom. I took a quick shower, washing the sweat, grime and unfamiliar smells away. Unwrapping my thigh bandage, I saw that the wound from when the poison dart had pierced me didn't look too good. The edges were crusty and dried with fresh blood, and there was white and blue pus emitting from it; an after-effect of the type of poison. I quickly changed the bandages on it and my ankle (which looked good as new, but was still a little sore) after I washed my hair for the first time in a couple days.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but my towel. All our clothing had been packed into the trunk of the car; I didn't know if it was still in there or if someone had brought it into the hotel rooms. Either way, it wasn't in the bathroom, and I wasn't going to wear my dirty purple dress again.

I stepped out into the bedroom quietly, hoping Mutt wouldn't wake up, since I wasn't anywhere near decent. But I should have known I had the worst luck in the world…

My greaser yawned, and I froze, staring at him with wide eyes, hoping he would fall asleep again or something. But he just stretched, flexing his amazing muscles and rolling the cricks out of his neck. Mutt glanced around the room lazily, seemingly still half-asleep, and the glassy look in his hazel brown eyes told me he couldn't remember where he was. I was surprised at how much more of him I seemed to notice now, like his eyes and the way his hair went all lopsided in the morning.

Mutt's eyes finally rolled over me, crouching in the corner of the room, clutching a white towel around my chest. The incomprehension in his eyes disappeared and was replaced with a teasing look.

"Just what do you think you're doing, babe?"

I stuck my tongue out at him and spotted a white cloth bag filled with my clothing by the door. Just as I was heading towards it, Mutt got out of bed and stretched again, before striding towards me.

"Good morning, doll. I trust that you're ready for another day of near-death experiences?" he said, bending his head down a little bit so he could look me straight in the eyes. I blushed under his intense gaze and looked at the floor; my long eyelashes cast shadows on my face as Mutt looked me up and down.

"Madie?" he said softly. "I'm sorry about last night. About the fighting between Allan and I. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's fine," I bristled, brushing past him. I was starting to lose self-control; if I stood that close to Mutt again, or he spoke to me in his husky morning voice another time, I don't think I would be able to keep up the 'I don't care about you; you're just another boring guy' charade. I wondered what I might have done if Mutt had woken up while I was still in his arms. The bigger question, though, was what would _Mutt_ have done?

I wondered, not for the first time that morning, if Marion had been correct when she said Mutt was falling in love with me. She was right; he was her son. She knew him better than anyone else. But did Mutt actually have feelings for me? I had told him last night that I thought he hated me. And he hadn't denied it. Sadly and strangely enough, I no longer felt that connection I had felt to Mutt after the car chase. Now, it seemed like he was distant from me again. God, this was all just so damned confusing!

I grabbed the bag of clothes and got changed behind the locked bathroom door; it was back to poodle skirts and blouses for me, but only until I could find something better.

Once I was done, Mutt took about a half an hour fixing his hair and his pomade. The style he wore was a pompadour and a Duck's Tail, and I enjoyed annoying him by calling it a 'Duck's Butt.' I sat on the bed, fiddling with a stray piece of thread hanging off the edge of my shirt. I knew my greaser had joined me sitting down when I felt the end of the bed sag, but I didn't look up, and neither of us said anything. Mutt flopped back on the bed and shut his eyes, breathing in deeply. I broke the silence when I asked him what exactly we were going to be doing in Paris.

"I don't know. That's a question you should ask my father. Apparently the map was moved to the catacombs, right?"

"Yeah. But the catacombs are _huge_. There's over 300 kilometres of underground galleries. It's a labyrinth down there; we won't find the map without more specific directions," I complained.

"Well," Mutt said, propping himself up on his elbows, "I'm sure my dad will think of something. Sure, he always makes things up as he goes along, but he'll find out what to do. Just trust him."

"I do trust him," I tilted my head to the side and stared at the wall. "I just wish I knew what we were doing."

At that moment, Marion burst through the door without knocking. Her face was glowing and her eyes were bright; she was excited. "Let's go, kiddies! The plane leaves in two hours!"

xXxXx

We checked into a small hotel in Paris quickly, but we were all bursting with excitement. We had gotten out of Britain without incident, and the plane ride had gone past quietly. Now, we were in the very heart of Paris, France herself, and we still had a couple hours to kill before sundown, when Indiana wanted to enter the catacombs and search for the map to Pandora's Box.

I had thought we would all just stay in the hotel room for safety reasons, but it turned out I was wrong. "Marion and I are going to take a walk along the river, and maybe visit the Eiffel Tower," Indiana said, smiling at his wife with love. She grasped his hand.

"I know you kids want to get going on the search for the map, but we need a little break time. And what better place to do it than the city of love?"

I didn't miss the fact both James and Mutt looked at me when Marion said the last part.

"I'm going to take a stroll around the grounds of the Louvre," Jeff said, walking out of the building after Indiana and Marion, who were smiling like lovesick idiots. Mutt looked disgusted at that.

I realized then that I was stuck in the middle of the city of love with two hormonal men who both apparently thought they had the hots for me. And to complicate matters, I just so happened to be falling in love with one of them. And falling _out_ of love with the other.

Guess which was which.

So our small trio decided to take a walk along the streets of Paris and the banks of La Seine. To my surprise, both boys never fought and behaved quite civilized, besides James's cocky, usual behaviour. The preppy held my hand as we walked, although I didn't really enjoy it (and judging from Mutt's expression, neither did he).

I was fluent in French, so I talked to some of the Parisians while the men stood by looking dumbfounded. Mutt spoke Spanish though, and the two languages are quite similar, so he could understand a little bit. We passed through a market where I bought us all some food, before buying myself a beautiful purple scarf which I wrapped around my neck, hiding beneath it. Somehow in the mayhem, Mutt and I were separated from James. The greaser certainly didn't seem to mind, though. We began a rather slow conversation about how we were going to find Pandora's Map in the catacombs. "I'm sure Indiana knows where it is," I said, looking around for James.

"Are you kidding? He has no clue. My dad makes things up as he goes along. Just like I do," Mutt finished rather bitterly.

"Why do you say it like that?" I asked, arching my eyebrows.

Mutt shrugged. "I don't know. It's just that people always compare me to him. 'Oh, hello Henry the third, are you a famous war hero like your father? No? Well, what have you done exciting in your life? Nothing? Then have fun mowing lawns when you're older!'" he mimicked a man high in society.

"I'm sure they're not that bad," I giggled at his impersonation.

Mutt shook his head. "They are. I'm always supposed to be as smart, brave, heroic and amazing as my father, and when people find out I'm not, they get all disappointed. I mean, I'm _sorry_ I'm not like Indy, okay? It's kind of difficult to fill his shoes. I'm simply myself. And that never seems to be good enough."

"That's ridiculous," I scrunched up my nose. "You're just fine the way you are. And you're all of those things!"

"Save it, Madie. I'm nothing like my dad; therefore, everyone thinks I'm a failure. Even Indy himself. He forced me to go back to school, although I would much prefer to spend my entire life fixing motorcycles in a garage. But Dad just criticizes my dreams and everything I do. Even when I mow the lawn or wash the car, he points out every tiny thing I've done wrong. It's sickening. No praise ever comes for me, because apparently I'm not a good enough son for him. Mom doomed me from the start when she named me Henry Jones _the third_. No one ever cares about the third."

I stood on my tiptoes and scanned through the crowds for James, but I was really paying more attention to what Mutt was saying. "He just doesn't know how to be a good father, Mutt. That's all."

"Well, obviously. He only walked into my life a month or two ago, and now he acts like he owns me."

"Don't be so harsh on him," I scolded. "From what I've heard, his own father wasn't the best, either. Indiana doesn't know how to be a dad, so he's trying his best. By sending you back to school, it just proves he wants the best for you." My greaser rolled his eyes. "And as for people comparing you to him, that's unfair. He's older and he's accomplished many more things. By the time you're his age, I'm sure you will have done just as many. And besides, you're two different people! You can't be the same, and there are many things you're better at than him. Henry," I winked at the end, trying to keep the mood light. He smiled a little and pulled his jacket tighter around him just when James found us, and we continued on our walk through Paris.

We walked around the city for hours, and before I knew it, it was sunset - and we were lost. The place we were staying at, L'Hôtel Meadtoner, was somewhere behind us, and we didn't know how to get back to it.

I stepped into a small restaurant, followed closed by Mutt and James. While the preppy went off to order us something to drink, I tried to find a map or directions to the hotel.

I was headed towards the back of the place when an old lady, who looked to be about Indy's age, dropped her purse on the floor. She was sitting at one of the tiny tables all alone, reading a book. The woman was dressed tastefully in a stuffy blue dress, and her white hair was piled in a small bun on top of her head.

"Watch it," Mutt said rudely to her as I picked up the purse and placed it back on her table.

"Désolée," I apologized in French for Mutt's rather rude, greaser-ish behaviour. "Excusez-moi, mais est-ce que vous pouvez nous donner des directions à L'Hôtel Meadtoner?" I asked her if she knew where our hotel was. The woman smiled at me, and responded in a British accent. "Yes, I know where that is. Thank you for getting my purse, by the way."

"No problem," I half-smiled.

The old lady looked at Mutt in a queer way. The greaser was looking around the restaurant, an angry expression on his face. He obviously didn't like it here.

"You know," the woman suddenly said to Mutt, "you look an awful lot like a boy I used to know back in 1916."

Mutt shrugged his shoulders, his leather jacket rustling. "Yeah? So? I'm not that old," he scoffed rudely.

"You even sound like him," the old lady said in wonder. "The boy I knew was an American, too. He came to London, England, where I lived, so he could join the Belgian army and fight in World War I. I was a suffragette back then, fighting for women's rights to vote, and we fell in love. Sadly, not long after we met he was called to duty. The boy proposed, but I turned down his offer. I haven't heard from him since he left for war," she sighed unhappily. "I can only assume he was killed."

I frowned, finding it a little strange she was telling us all this. None the less, I told her "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"But do you how to get to our hotel?" Mutt asked, hands in his pockets.

"Tell me, boy, what is your name?" the woman asked.

"Mutt Jones. Why do you want to know?" I stomped on Mutt's foot; he was being awfully rude.

The old lady was starting to look a bit spooked; like she'd seen a ghost. "That was the boy's last name, too. Jones."

"His full name is Henry Jones III," I pointed at Mutt, and he elbowed me in the stomach. He really didn't like his real name.

With wide eyes, to woman said "the boy's full name was Henry Jones Junior."

"Would his nickname happen to be Indiana?" I asked, eyebrows raised and suddenly curious.

"Why, yes! I called him Indy!"

I burst out in laughter and had to sit down to avoid falling over. "Mutt," I said between bursts of giggles, "is Indy's son!"

The old lady stared between the two of us in shock. "Really? I mean, they certainly look alike, and talk alike, and even act alike…" she smiled. "So Indiana didn't die during the great war! He made it out alive, and even settled down and had a kid!"

"I guess you could call it 'settling down,' Mutt grumbled, and I made him sit beside me on the bench across from the old woman.

"I'm Vicky Prentiss," she held her hand out, and I shook it. Mutt just stared at it resentfully. He was in a rather foul mood. "If Indiana's son is anything like he was, miss, than I suggest you never let him go. I regret the day I left Indy greatly. You two are a couple, _oui_?" the lady said to me.

"Uh…" the greaser and I stuttered. "More like friends," Mutt jumped in. "Acquaintances, really." _Did I really mean that little to him?_ I thought as my heart dropped a little. Maybe Marion was wrong when she said Mutt liked me…

"So, how is Indiana?" she asked us after an awkward silence. "Are you his daughter, too?"

I shook my head. "As Mutt said, I'm just a friend," I said sourly.

"Indiana is fine. Actually, he's in great shape. Still running around wrecking havoc wherever he goes," Mutt was surly. I poked him under the table.

"How are you, Ms. Prentiss? I'm sure he'll want to know how you're doing."

She shrugged. "Just tell him that I miss him greatly and think of him often. I should have agreed to his marriage proposal. But after women won the right to vote, I fell in love again with a Frenchman and moved to Paris. My husband and I had two children before we divorced just before he was killed. Actually, he went missing, but I was told he was killed."

"I'm sorry," I said, sympathetic again.

"Yes, well, it was a long time ago. I still live in Paris with my one son, though. My daughter has moved to Germany."

I was nodding respectfully when Mutt rudely cut in. "We really have to be going. So how do you get back to the hotel?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Mutt. Tell her about Indy. She used to be in love with him, but they haven't been in contact for years. You owe it to her to tell her how he's doing!"

"I don't owe anybody nothing," he said. "And lots of people have been in love with my father over the years." Suddenly, James appeared with drinks.

"How about I tell you about when I met your father," Ms. Prentiss said as James sat down beside me and slung his arm around my shoulders. I introduced them while Mutt sat in the corner, sulking. Why was he being like this today?

I hastily agreed to a story from the woman, and she told us about her life as a suffragette and how she met Indy - they were riding a bus when a zeppelin attacked London and started to bomb the place. She also told us about the things they did together, and their visit to Indy's tutor, Helen Seymour. Lastly, she explained about how she actually threw her dessert at Winston Churchill, which made everyone laugh and seemed to put Mutt in a better mood.

In turn, Mutt finally opened up and told her about lots if Indiana's adventures, like his search for the Ark of the Covenant. He also explained about Indy's relationship with Marion. However, I did notice that he avoided the subject of what we were doing in Paris right now.

It was getting rather late by the time the restaurant owner kicked us out; the place was closing and Mutt had drunken all their milkshakes. We exchanged pleasantries with Ms. Vicky Prentiss and promised her that one day, we would reunite her with Indiana so that they may finally see each other after their 41 years without contact. She gave us directions back to the hotel, and we parted ways. I walked all the way through Paris smiling - it may have no longer been a love story, but it still had a happy ending. Indy had (sort of) found an old flame of his.

But I couldn't help but worry that I wouldn't have the same sort of happy ending. Especially since I was having such a hard time choosing between Mutt and James. What if I chose the wrong one when the time came, just like Marion said?

xXxXx

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long.

This chapter wasn't really much, and it was pretty short. It's just a filler/set-up for something that happens later on (hint, hint).

Reviews are love!

I own nothing that you recognize (i.e. Indiana Jones & co) and the song at the beginning is by Selena Gomez. Lastly, I don't own Vicky Prentiss. She's a character from one of the 'Young Indy' TV episodes. Also, her story about being a suffragette and Indiana going off to war is not mine, either. It's been taken directly from the TV show. So, I don't really own much from this chapter! :(

Okay peoples, I've finished the story plan. There will be twenty chapters in total, plus a tiny epilogue. But chapters 18 and 19 are going to be rather… long… and does this mean the end of their adventures? (I'm sounding like a cheesy tour guide) No! Of course not! Just keep reading ;D

Special thanks to _will, merlincrazy, iccle fairy,_ and Emily Maria! You guys will always be the best, and thank you so much for your reviews!

I agree - I want to punch James too. And sorry about the elbow bit :P I just couldn't bring myself to do it!

Stay tuned - there will be a new chapter soon!

UnTiL nExT tImE,

Alexa :)


	14. Chapter 14: Thriller

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora **

Chapter 14: _Thriller_

_You hear the door slam and realize there's nowhere left to run/you feel the cold hand and wonder if you'll ever see the sun/you close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination, girl/but all the while you hear a creature creeping up behind, you're out of time_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

Indiana wasn't too pleased that we were almost a half an hour late for our meeting time, but his mood seemed to improve a bit when we told him about Ms. Vicky Prentiss. He acted as if he didn't care, but I could tell he was pleased to hear that she was doing well.

Our group of six walked through the silent and dark streets of Paris. It was really late, and the sun had long gone. The stars were dimmed because of the bright city lights, and the moon was hiding behind clouds. Nonetheless, there were streetlamps to light our way as we stalked through the empty streets.

There was a tourist entranced to the catacombs; that was how everyone entered them. But we were doing something extremely illegal – breaking in through a secret entrance. Not long ago, Paris had almost completely closed off the catacombs to the public, except for the tourist part. It had been done to reduce the number of thefts, but there were still secret, unsealed entrances that were used illegally. If we were caught, we could be fined, or arrested. But preserving the catacombs had not been the only reason they had been closed off – they had also been sealed to prevent people from getting lost down there. It was a labyrinth of bones and skeletons, and one wrong turn could mean your death if you lost your way. It was almost impossible to make your way out without a map of some sort. People had gone missing and died down there countless times; I just hoped we wouldn't be the next ones.

On the way to a secret entrance Indiana knew of, Marion tried to explain the catacombs of Paris to everyone. "They were used to store bones and skeletons. It's a mass burial site, and it spreads underneath Paris for miles and miles. Thousands of people are buried down there. And I have a warning: the catacombs we're about to enter are nothing like the tourist catacombs. These ones are dangerous and aren't secured like the ones the ones to city has opened. There's actually quite a huge difference: you could walk into the tourist ones, walk around for a bit and look at bones, and then walk out. But over there, the passageways are blocked off, so you can only walk around in a limited space. Out here, we can walk wherever we want, and get lost easily. We need to stay together. Lastly, these catacombs are filled with more horrors than the public ones. The bones aren't lined against the walls carefully and preserved; these ones are real. The others are fake." Marion was really starting to scare me, but I put on a brave face. The famed Parisian Catacombs couldn't be that bad, right?

We left the city of Paris and walked along a set of train tracks for about a mile before Indiana stopped suddenly. "Here," he said, pointing to a covered manhole. "This is an entrance. Now, stick together, everyone. Becoming separated could prove fatal. I can't stress this enough."

"How are we going to find our way out once we're down there?" I asked as Indy handed out flashlights to everyone, along with small backpacks filled with water bottles and food.

"I have a map," Indy said grimly, examining the stone slab covering the hole. "I got it from a man who is a catacomb expert. He owed me a favour." Straightening up, my college professor told us the plan. "The chances of finding the map are very slim, but it's extremely important that we discover it. I have an idea of where it might be, so we're going to make our way over to that place, and then look around. Lastly, I've arranged for another secret entrance to be opened tomorrow morning so that we can get out, since I'll have to seal this entrance up. But the 'exit' will only be open for an hour, because we can't have the police figuring out we broke in when they see it. Therefore, we need to be in and out of the catacombs. I have a watch," he checked the time, "and we have ten hours before we must be at the exit. Everyone got it?" We all nodded vigorously. "We can't miss that time frame. And we need to find the map!" With that, Indiana and Jeff slid the stone off the manhole. It revealed a ladder, like one you might find in a sewer entrance, leading down into darkness. The flashlights came attached to headbands so we could wear them on our heads and keep our hands free; I put mine on as Indy went down the manhole first. He disappeared from sight as a churning in my stomach told me that somehow, this was going to end badly.

Marion followed suite, and James went after. He tried to get me to go before him, but I refused. I was suddenly resenting that ladder to nowhere very much.

I stepped down after him, looking up at the night sky and Jeff and Mutt's worried faces above me. A thought struck me: what if this was the last time I was ever going to see the sky again?

Well, it was too late for second thoughts. I slowly stepped down the ladder, taking the rough rungs in my hands and holding on to them for dear life. I had forgotten to turn on my flashlight, but I wouldn't dare to take a hand off the ladder so I could turn it on now. But as a result, I climbed down in darkness.

After a while, my feet touched solid ground. It was cold and damp; I shivered, regretting that fact that I had forgotten a jacket. Turning on my flashlight, I spotted Indiana, Marion and James looking around. We stood in a long corridor made of a whitewashed stone, but so far, I couldn't see any bones. There was a small trail of water running along the floor, though. We all stood on a raised ledge that was only a half a foot wide; the water was gray and smelled foul. No one wanted to step in it.

Mutt joined us in the catacomb as Jeff climbed in before sliding the stone covering back in place. Our tracks were now covered, but I wasn't so sure that was a good thing. "Is it possible to get back out this way?" I asked Indiana as Jeff climbed down.

He grunted, "I guess. But the other entrance is closer to our destination. That's why I organized for us to exit that way." I nodded, and our group set off into the darkness of the catacombs.

Indiana took the lead, and he held his flashlight in his hands, lighting our way. The walls were freezing cold to the touch, and the stream of water under our feet was becoming thicker and steadier. Eventually, it became like a small river of murky gray water. We walked along the small edges of the walls, avoiding the rushing water. It wasn't going fast, and we wouldn't be swept away or anything, but we still weren't taking any chances. Unfortunately, the 'river' was rather wide, and sometimes one of us would slip into it and splash everyone.

I walked ahead of everybody and behind Indiana. "Watch your feet _and_ your heads, everyone," he said as the ceiling became lower. Even though I'm rather short, I still had to duck to avoid clubbing myself in the forehead by a stone wall. The passage became smaller and smaller until it finally widened out again - but we had reached a dead end. Sort of. There was a small ditch in the stone floor, but the water went off in a different direction. At the bottom of the ditch was a small hole.

Indiana jumped down into the ditch and then looked up at the rest of us. "Follow me, but watch your step. There are rocks and things you could trip on," he said, about to duck into the hole.

"Wait! Where are we going?" I asked.

"I don't know. There are many passages, and a lot of tunnels lead to lower levels. We could be going anywhere."

"But what if we get lost?" I asked, worried.

Indiana gave me his famous sarcastic half-smile. "Don't worry, honey. It's on the map I'm following." My college professor then proceeded to wriggle through the small stone hole.

I scrambled into the ditch and followed him headfirst. My legs flopped around uselessly on the side I had just exited before I tumbled through the hole. The fall was surprisingly small; I stood up and dusted myself off beside Indiana as he helped Marion through.

The tunnel we were now in looked almost exactly the same as the other one, except there was no more running water. I shone my flashlight on the walls, looking at the stones and dust covering everything. While Indiana was helped James through the hole, I took a couple steps forwards –

I shrieked as I tripped over a small raised ledge and tumbled headfirst down a hole. But it wasn't a tiny hole like the one I had just climbed through; it was more like a manhole.

Except there was no bottom.

I heard the lashing of a whip, and suddenly I was jerked to a stop and Indiana's bullwhip wrapped around my waist and pulled taut. I bumped and scraped against the stone wall, screaming again. The darkness was engulfing, and I watched in horror as my flashlight fell off my head and fell down, down, down… the light kept getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether. What probably scared me the most was that I never heard it hit the bottom.

Indiana yanked me out of the hole, and I stumbled into James. He grabbed me in his arms and I was surprised to find I was shaking. The whole experience had lasted maybe three seconds, but I was terrified now.

Jeff shone his own flashlight down the hole. "It doesn't appear to have a bottom," he said to Indiana, who glared at me.

"I told us to stay together," he grumbled as he wound up his whip. "There are holes like that everywhere. We need to watch our steps so we don't get killed." I nodded as James took off his letterman track sweater and wrapped it around me, as he thought I was shaking from the cold. We continued on our journey without another word, but I stayed in the very back of the group, just in front of my uncle.

xXxXx

After three hours of walking in silence, climbing through more tiny holes that lead to lower levels, stepping in dirty water and even having to crawl in some places, I was starting to wonder how we were going to find the map. We were searching through an incredibly vast maze, and it seemed unlikely we would find Pandora's Map. The chances of finding anything were slim. It was like searching through a haystack for a needle. There were multiple levels of catacombs and over 400 miles of tunnels and galleries; too many corridors. So far, we hadn't run into any bones, which I found I bit odd, since that was why the catacombs had been built - to house bones. But I wasn't complaining.

Indiana proved that the tunnels were pitch-black when we stopped for a short break. Everyone was sweating and exhausted, and I pulled a granola bar out of my pack to have something to eat. There were four full water bottles in each person's bag; I had already finished one and a half. It was hard to believe I hadn't had all four yet, I was so thirsty, but I was trying to save my water. Just in case. Mutt pulled off his boots and shook them upside down; sewer water splashed all over the floor. I knew that my converse were soaking wet, too.

"Everyone turn off your lights," Indiana ordered. I stayed still, since I didn't have a light anymore. But once all the flashlights were extinguished, we were plunged into darkness. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, the blackness was so absolute. I had been in the dark before, but there had always been some sort of light, like the moon. Down here, I couldn't see anything. All my senses were disoriented. That's when I realized that if our batteries ran out or everyone lost their flashlights, we would be dead. There would be no way to find our way out. Indiana then ordered us to turn the flashlights back on, and I had never been so grateful to see light.

We set off again, and I was starting to find it hard to breathe. There was a limited supply of oxygen where we were, which happened to be over 300 feet below street level (which Marion said was too deep for amateurs like us), and the air wasn't the cleanest. It was dusty and smelled of corpses, although we hadn't come upon any yet.

xXxXx

Another six hours passed, and I was walking like a zombie, ready to pass out. We all were. Exhaustion overwhelmed the group, and the fact that we had only an hour left to find the map and then make it to the exit settled over us like a thick, heavy blanket that was blocking out all sunlight and positive thoughts. And even if we didn't find the map, we would still need to find the exit and escape in the one-hour window of time we had before we were locked into the catacombs forever, becoming new additions to the bones already down there.

To make matters worse, we were low on batteries, and had already used our spares. Indiana instructed us to use only one flashlight at a time, to try and preserve light. It didn't help that I no longer had a flashlight, but at least we could still use my spare batteries.

Water and food was running low, too. I only had a half a bottle of clean water left, even though I had really been cutting back. But my lips were becoming dry and cracked, and my vision was screwing up. Things would randomly slant sideways, and sometimes I would become dizzy after my sight went black around the edges. It all derived from lack of clean, fresh oxygen and exhaustion.

"Madie?" my uncle said softly while Mutt belted out 'Hound Dog' by Elvis Presley as loud as he could. The greaser was trying to suppress the deafening silence and make the mood a little happier, but I must admit that he wasn't doing a very good job of it. His voice echoed sadly through the tunnels, proving we were alone. Indiana was extremely annoyed at Mutt's singing, but he fumed silently and let his son do as he wished.

"I'm so sorry I dragged you into this," my uncle apologized. "I've put you in danger ever since I gave you that key, and you may die because of it. I'm so sorry."

I shrugged, "don't be. What's past is past. I'm glad I got to go on this adventure."

"Are you really? I mean, look at us. We're in the catacombs of Paris. I can't believe you're not running from this right now."

"Yes, well, I'm not the preppy you thought I was." I spotted James looking over his shoulder in confusion, but I ignored it. He could think what he wanted.

Jeff chuckled. "If only your parents could see you now…"

"…they would kill me. I probably would never have even entered the _tourist _catacombs if it was up to them. This gives me so much more freedom."

"If you say so," Jeff mumbled, when suddenly I walked into James, who had walked into Mutt, who in turn had walked into his mother, because Indiana had stopped.

"What is it?" Jeff called up from the back of the line.

"We're getting closer to where I think the map might be," Indiana said in his low voice. He turned right and continued walking down a tunnel, and as I followed I saw what had made him stop. There was what looked like a drawing of a human skeleton on the wall; it was more of an imprint, really. The arms and legs were pointing out in a starfish sort of position. We all walked past it with grim expressions on our faces. There was something about it that served as a warning, and as if to fuel our imaginations, Indiana told us of a legend of the catacombs. "They say that you can find the gate to Hell down here," he said, holding the flashlight higher.

"On the entrance to the tourist catacomb, there is a messages inscribed in stone," Jeff added. "It says 'Stop: This Here Is the Empire of the Dead.' His voice echoed ominously through the tunnels, and my skin crawled when I suddenly got a creepy feeling. I prickled all over with cold sweat - it felt like we were being watched.

_Live each day as if it's your last_

_Your time on earth will soon be past_

_The empire of dead is calling for you_

_And will claim you if you keep on this path_

We jumped and screamed a little as a scratchy voice whispered through the tunnel like a soft wind. Everyone turned pale as a sheet, except Indiana, who shone his flashlight at each of us in turn. "Marion? Was that you?" he asked; the voice that had spoken the strange rhyme had been feminine.

"No," she said, and I shook my head while trembling when he posed the same question.

"Hmm. Looks like we're not the only ones in this catacomb," he said, before turning around and continuing on his path.

"Wh-why are we st-still going?" I stuttered. "The voice told us to turn back."

Indiana smiled. "All the more reason to keep going," he winked.

We walked through the corridors as the voice repeated the strange poem again. Something was very, very wrong - I could feel it. I was shaking uncontrollably, and I jumped when someone clutched my trembling hand, but it was just Mutt. He smiled gravelly at me, trying to make me feel a little better. Well, at least he wasn't singing anymore. Nonetheless, I held Mutt's hand as we continued down the passageway. Normally, I would have been delighted to find myself holding the greaser's hand, but right now the only emotion I could feel was terror.

We passed by a strange waterfall of some sort; it was the murky sewer water running down a stone wall. But there was something different about it… as I looked closer, I realized I could see my reflection in it. But just as I heard the terrifying voice repeating the death-poem overhead, I realized just what was so wrong with my reflection.

Our group was mirrored in the water, but we were all horribly disfigured. Disfigured as in, we were all dead.

In my reflection, I had cuts and slashes across my face and arms, and my skin was gray and ashy. Some of my skin had even been peeled off. Blood was seeping from unseen wounds, and only the whites of my eyes showed. My clothing was tattered, my left arm was hanging at an unnatural angle, and some sort of black paste was dripping out of my mouth. I held back a scream as I took it all in, and noticed that the other's mirror images were similar.

Indiana ran his fingers along the wall. "Don't pay any attention to this. It only means we're getting close; they want to keep us away from the map."

"They?" James said, speaking for the first time in a while.

"They. He. She. It. Whatever," Indy nodded, and we walked on as the poem repeated itself in the scratchy female voice one last time:

_Live each day as if it's your last_

_Your time on earth will soon be past_

_The empire of dead is calling for you_

_And will claim you if you keep on this path_

As we rounded a corner, I got my first glimpse of the real catacombs.

Bones.

There were skeletons, corpses and bones littered on the ground. They weren't stacked against the wall like I had seen in pictures of the tourist catacombs; they were covering the floor like a thick blanket. A _very _thick blanket. I couldn't see the floor as I stood on the bones, looking around me at the skulls and corpses. We could be standing on _thousands_ of skeletons, and it was impossible to tell how deep the pile was. The bones covered the ground in the tunnel for as long as the eye could see, and I walked carefully over some of the skeletons, clutching Mutt's hand in a death grip.

Indiana picked up a skull, examined it, and then set it back down. "I thought…" he started, shaking his head. "I thought the map would be here, but there's no way we're going to be able to search through all these corpses."

"We may as well try," Marion shrugged, scrunching up her nose. Disgustedly, we all began to rummage through the bones, but the pile was too big and too deep.

This is what Marion had meant when she said these were the real, untamed catacombs. Down here, there were millions of dead people who weren't cared for and readied for the public. And down here, it was scary.

I stayed close to Mutt while we crouched and searched for an elusive map in the massive, vast pile of bones. We realized after an hour or two that it was pointless. There was no way we would be able to find anything, and we were down to our last flashlight. Everyone was exhausted beyond comprehension, and our movements were robotic and stiff. I was hungry, thirsty and scared. We all wanted to go home.

When Indiana saw this, he stood up and looked at his watch. "Well, if the map is here, at least the Russians won't be able to get it. We'd best be getting to the exit. It'll be closing in about fifteen minutes." We all stood up, sore, but made our way to the end of the tunnel of bones.

Indiana seemed to know where to go, so we followed him through another corridor. But this one, too, was covered in bones. Maybe we really had found the entrance to Hell.

Suddenly, I felt something wet and slimy brush up against me briefly. I turned abruptly and looked around hastily, but nothing was there. "Was that you?" I asked Mutt.

"Was what me?"

I shook my head and tried to forget about it, but I got the feeling that we were being watched again. Unexpectedly, James started and jumped a little. He was walking in front of us, and turned to catch Mutt in a death glare. "The jokes aren't funny, nosebleed," he said.

Mutt's eyes were wide. "I didn't do anything!" he stated, when suddenly Jeff yelped.

I turned around to make sure my uncle was okay, but he just looked spooked. "I felt something move beside me," he explained. "It was sort of wet, and moving, like an animal-"

Marion screamed from somewhere in front of us in the darkness. Our party stopped moving, and we crowded around each other. "I felt it too, I think," she said, pale as a ghost. When I felt the _thing _brush up against me again, I pressed myself closer to my greaser.

"We're definitely not alone down here," Indiana said grimly, looking around us. The flashlight sputtered and almost went out, so he rushed us through the tunnel quickly. "We don't have much time," he looked at me with his intense gaze. I felt Mutt jump a little and I heard a wet whooshing noise as we continued on our way and the thing kept brushing against our arms and legs.

I sighed and almost collapsed in relief when we made it to the manhole which was supposed to be our exit. Indiana climbed up the ladder while the rest of us stayed down on the ground; I was finishing off my water while I was thinking of how lucky we were to finally have found a way out when Indy yelled something down that made my blood run ice cold.

"We're too late. It's sealed shut."

My fingers went stiff and the water bottle fell from my hands. It rolled away from us, clanging. The metal bottle against stone was the only sound as we all let it sink it: we were about to become a permanent addition to the forbidden catacombs of Paris.

"We'll just have to backtrack," Mutt griped, and I could see in his eyes that he was starting to become a little bit desperate.

"We can't. The flashlight is almost dead, and everyone is out of water and food. No one even knows we're down here; no one is going to come searching for us," Marion sat down on the cold stone ground.

"Does that mean this is the end?" I whispered, afraid of my own voice.

"Madie, I'm so sorry I brought you into this," Jeff said.

Climbing down, Indiana mumbled "so close, and yet so far. We're not even ten feet from freedom. And yet we can't even get out."

"Come on!" Mutt yelled, angry. "There has to be another way or a way to open this door-"

"Madison, if this is the end, I want you to know I love you," James said in a serious voice.

"I know that already. You seem to enjoy pointing it out every time I look at you," I rolled my eyes and blew a strand of my brown hair off my face.

Without warning, everyone went silent as my metal water bottle, which had rolled away into darkness and oblivion mere moments ago, rolled back towards me. It stopped at my feet, and out of curiosity, I pushed it back into the blackness again. After a tiny pause, it rolled right back.

"What the…" I trailed off, taking a step towards where it had disappeared. Marion stood up and grabbed the flashlight from Indiana, shining it into the place I was walking to. All that was there was a pile of bones. Kicking a few away with my feet, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but there was a small hole behind the corpses. I crawled through it feet first, ignoring the many protests of my comrades.

I emerged on a stone bridge with a white-washed rock railing. Indiana soon wiggled through the hole after me, and together, we looked down at what was below the bridge.

Stifling a gasp, I stared at the three beings standing in the sewer water. They were skeletons, but they were walking and moving and talking, and there was some sort of long, silver hair covering their entire bodies. The eye sockets were surprisingly not empty though; instead they were filled with eyes that looked startlingly human. I enchanted glances with my fedora-clad college professor as Mutt crawled through the hole and stood beside us.

"What are those things?" he asked loudly, and I cringed when the three skeletons turned and stared at us.

"Henry!" Indiana scorned his son as Jeff, Marion and James unsuspectingly walked onto the bridge beside us. But the bridge wasn't strong enough to hold all six people in our group, and it collapsed with an ear-splitting groan. Dust, stone, rocks and debris rained down upon us as everything and everyone tumbled into the small tunnel below and the sewage water rushing beneath us. I tried to scream, but my lungs were chocked with dust, so I ended up coughing instead. Indiana pulled me out from under some of the rubble, and we looked up just as the hairy skeletons held some sort of modified gun in front of our faces, grinning maliciously.

Oh crap. We were screwed.

xXxXx

A/N: And... cut.

So, what did everyone think of the time that the group spent in the catacombs? I hope it was okay/you awesome readers liked it! Thank you so much to all the people who follow and favourite this story! And even more thanks to will, merlincrazy and iccle fairy for their fantastic reviews! You guys are the bestest :P

I've sat down at my computer wearing my special Indiana Jones hoodie, and I'm going to sit down and write a bunch! Yay!

No reviews = no story.

Just kidding. I'd keep writing even if no one commented. But that doesn't mean don't comment! I love reviews and seeing what you guys think! I don't really have much else to say here. Except that I hope the ending of this story goes well. I'm sure it'll be fine.

If some of my descriptions are bad, don't shoot me; I've never been to the catacombs.

Lastly, I don't own Indiana Jones or anything you recognize. Also, the song at the beginning (in case you didn't already know) is Thriller by Michael Jackson

Until next time (which may or may not be later today)  
Lexi

P.S. Can anyone please explain to me what the difference is between a 'hit' and a 'visitor?' Because when I'm looking at my story traffic, there's apparently a _big _difference, although I don't know what it is... Thanks everyone!


	15. Chapter 15: Russian Roulette

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 15: _Russian Roulette_

_And you can see my heart beating/oh, you can see it through my chest/said I'm terrified, but I'm not leaving/know that I must pass this test_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

The strange silver-haired skeletons blindfolded us by covering our heads with dirty cloth bags. I heard Marion put up a ferocious struggle behind me, kicking and biting and yelling. Someone finally shut her up after she cried out "You can't do this to me! I'm an American!"

Our not-so-small group of six, plus a couple skeletons, made our way through the catacombs quickly. We were being held hostage by something supernatural, and it didn't help that the stink of death got stronger and stronger the further we ventured. I couldn't for the life of me see where I was going, and the ground was uneven and had holes, bones and stones littered across our path – actually, they could be skulls that I was bumping into, for all I knew. I felt someone's hand grab mine, and I bit back a scream before realizing it was just Mutt. I would recognize his rough, strong hands used to fix motorcycles anywhere. His hand in mine gave me a little comfort that I wasn't alone, but not much. We were being led through the famous Parisian catacombs to God-knows-where, although if the gate to Hell was down here, then I wasn't so sure God could save us anymore.

After a short walk that seemed to drain me of what little energy I had left, we arrived where the skeletons had been taking us. I heard the creaking of a stone door before I was shoved through it into what I could tell was a large room – a very large room. The cloth bag was ripped off my head and I breathed in strange smells and looked around at the unfamiliar place around me.

We were still in the catacombs, that was for certain. The walls, which had been painted red, were lined with skulls and bones, grinning at us from every corner. Hanging above them, though, were bright and cheerfully coloured banners. Actually, the entire place was covered in tattered banners of rich colors. There were small groups of people huddled around fires on the ground, and the people were scowling about with horrible looks of disdain on their faces. Most of the hundred or so men, women and children looked like criminals, or they looked like they had some sort of disease. Despair, anger, sadness, hopelessness and poverty hung in the air like a black cloud that was suffocating everyone. Parts of what I saw were so horrible I wanted to cry or choke. The people were obviously poor, homeless and hungry, but hostile as well. I stayed close to my greaser's side, and he in turn stuck beside his parents and the others in our group, who had arrived in this dank hole along with us. It struck me as odd that there were no silver-haired skeletons, though, besides the ones that still had their boney hands wrapped around our wrists, preventing us from escaping.

A tall man with shaggy black hair and a soiled purple shirt pranced over to us. He didn't look affected at all by the sadness everywhere, but definitely by the poverty. I decided that the man probably didn't even have a candle to light his dark nights. He started to jabber random things to us in French; I tried to concentrate, but I was a bit too afraid. Marion and Indiana were the only people who payed attention – they also happened to be the only people besides me who spoke French. I only caught snippets of what he said.

Once the man was done his cheerful rant, he grinned at me with a gap-toothed smile. "Where are we?" James asked the man in English, and the fact he didn't speak French wasn't helping things.

"He says we're in _La Cour des Miracles_," Indiana said slowly.

"The… Court of Miracles?" I translated, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahem. Sir, do you know where a map of Pandora is? We were looking for it, as it's supposed to be hidden down here somewhere," Indiana said in French to the man who was talking to us. He seemed to be the leader of the group of misfits in the cave in the catacombs. The man's eyes grew wide at the mention of the map.

"More treasure-hunters?" he said in terrible English. "You not get me map! Me family protect map for centuries! Not give to evil man!" he jabbed a finger at Indy. "You hang! Like Russian man! You not tell anyone where _La Cour des Miracles_ is, and you not take map!"

I blinked. "Vous avez ce que nous cherchons?" I tried to confirm that he had what we were looking for.

"Oui, mademoiselle! But you not take me map! You hang!" Suddenly, Indiana and I were pushed through the crowds of people, and I heard laughs and jeers coming from all around.

"We- we hang?" I cried out as my hand was torn from Mutt's and Indiana and I were separated from the rest of the group. I fell onto my knees, but rough hands pushed me back to my feet and dragged me after my college professor.

Glancing around widely, I saw that we really were in the famed 'Court of Miracles.' I only knew what it was because I had read _The Hunchback of Notre Dame _by Victor Hugo, and he had described the place in his book. It was a street in Paris that was used to house the criminals and the poor – the slums of the city. But a while ago, the homeless had been run out, and the Court was destroyed, in a way. Now, a shopping centre stood in the street's place. But this Court of Miracles was not up on the streets of Paris, it was down in the catacombs. This wasn't something I had read about. I guess that people had been forced down here now because there was no room for the beggars in the city, and the few of them that were left had to go somewhere. The only other thing I knew about the place was that it was called the 'Court of Miracles' because back in the middle ages when the slums were used excessively, beggars would go into the streets and pretend to be blind, or have a lame limb. The scoundrels found that they earned more money when they had a 'disability' because people took more pity on them, and that's why they would pretend they had a 'problem.' But when they were back at the Court, they would suddenly return to their normal, perfectly healthy state, as if it was a miracle. They didn't need to act when everyone around them had the same sorts of problems.

"It'll be a miracle if we get out of here alive," Indiana muttered under his breath, as if he knew I was thinking about the name of the place.

"Please, Monsieur, it's not what you think," I tried to plead with the lead beggar. "We're not here so we can tell the police where your secret hideout is or anything," I grovelled in French, but he shook his head.

"Then you are here for me map. So you hang!" the man grinned at me, and I saw with displeasure again that he was missing quite a few teeth.

I ran the facts over in my head. So this guy had Pandora's map (or at least a map of some sort), but he wasn't going to give it to us anytime soon. Apparently, it had been in his family for generations; this could mean they've had it since that Meyer guy from the tomb in England brought it here. Could it really be _the_ map we were searching for? I mean, he thought we were going to use it for bad reasons, just like the Russians were going to. Why would he think that if it was just a normal map? I guess that at least we were right when we said the map was in the catacombs; the Court of Miracles was in the catacombs, and the map was probably in the Court. But even if we did get the map, we would still have no way to get out of here. Besides, Indiana's flashlight had been lost when the bridge collapsed and we had been 'kidnapped.'

We came to a halt at the bottom of a ramp surrounded by barrels of gunpowder leading up to a stage which housed something I never thought I would ever see – it was an actual gallows, with the noose and all. Were they actually going to hang us? Punishment like that had been outlawed, I had thought! People didn't get hanged in 1957! That was something that had happened in the 1800's, right! I was starting to freak out when I looked up in surprise to see someone already up on the gallows. It was Claymore's Russian partner-in-crime, Vladimir Karpol, the big ugly brute who had kidnapped Mutt and James back in the Meyer family tomb.

"What're you doing here?" I yelled up at him as the rope was being fitted around his neck.

"He discover you people was looking for map," the beggar-man, whose name was Claude, explained for him, "So he come down here to try and steal from you. But scary lady's warning and Black Seal scare him right into the waiting arms of the Court!"

"You mean that voice from the catacombs, and the wet thing, were all just ways you tried to scare off people from finding this place?" Indiana scoffed, while Claude nodded vigorously. "I suppose that the wall of water that was more like a mirror and these silver-haired skeletons are all just ploys to keep us away as well?"

"Oui, oui, oui!" Claude shouted cheerfully, cracking his knuckles and looking at the crowd that had gathered around the gallows in glee. The man seemed awfully excited for the hanging… I reeled back a little as the hairy silver skeletons slipped out of costumes and revealed that they were normal men. What a place!

The question of 'how did the Russian leader find out we were searching for the map here?' nagged at the back of my head, but I pushed it away as I looked up at him on the platform. I mean, sure, it was strange that they knew our plans even though we hadn't told anyone, but there were more pressing matters to think about. They weren't actually going to hang Karpol, were they?

Apparently they were. Everything happened so fast; it was over before I even knew it was happening. I hadn't expected the floor beneath Karpol to drop away so suddenly, so that he was now hanging in midair by the rope around his neck. I turned my gaze away from the execution and bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut. These people had just killed a man (for no apparent reason, too)! A cheer rose up from the crowd as the Russian leader Vladimir Karpol died at the end of his noose, and a couple moments later his body was carted off, probably to be disposed somewhere in the catacombs. I felt sick to the stomach and ready to pass out, but was revived when Claude pulled me up the ramp. _I was next._

"No!" I heard Mutt and James shout from the back of the crowd, causing a disturbance. Indiana looked frantically around for a way to rescue me, but found none. Did that mean it was really the end? I was going to die by being hanged? Of all the ways I had thought I was going to die, this hadn't been one of them…

I struggled and kicked with everything I had, but it wasn't enough. Claude fitted the noose around my neck, and cheerfully said goodbye. Oh, my God. This wasn't actually happening, was it?

Time slowed down as Claude leaped for the trigger and pulled it, grinning with malice…

And then the floor dropped away beneath me.

I tried to scream, but all breath was cut off in the fall that was supposed to break my neck - when suddenly, I found myself lying on the floor beneath the gallows. What the…?

Looking up, I saw that the rope that was supposed to hang me had broken. No one had cut it or anything, it had just snapped. Claude sneered at me and dragged me back onto the platform, fitting a new rope around my neck. I saw Mutt trying to make his way through the crowd, which had suddenly become restless.

"Why you no hang?" Claude said, frustrated and staring unabashedly into my eyes. The beggars closest to the gallows suddenly went quiet as an old hunchbacked woman walked up the ramp to stand beside me and Claude. She strolled around me, leaning heavily on a cane of hers while she looked me up and down. I struggled against the new rope around my neck, all too conscious that I was still seconds away from death. Oh God, what were the Joneses going to tell my parents if I was killed? That was not a thought I wanted to imagine.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marion, Jeff, Mutt and James as they finally broke through the crowd and stared at me. Mutt made as if to climb up to the gallows and grab me away from the beggar woman, but Indiana held him back. "Hang on a second, Junior. Something important is going on here."

"Fine, gramps," Mutt grumbled resentfully. Marion glared at her two boys and their name-calling.

The old lady on the platform beside me snapped her fingers three times for attention. The entire Court of Miracles fell silent in one hush, but she didn't start speaking to them. Instead, the gray-haired woman spoke to me in a quiet voice that I could barely hear.

"I am the wise-woman of the Court," she said, frowning. "Tell us, girl, what is your full name?"

"Madison Annaliese Clarke," I said, barely able to get the words out of my mouth because I was choking on the noose.

The woman frowned again, and tapped her fingernails on her chin. "What brings you here?"

"We- we were looking for a map of Pandora," I stuttered, too terrified to say anything else or to lie.

"Girl, I need you to answer me truthfully: are you a descendant of Pandora?"

_What?_

"Uh… no? What the hell?" I was shocked. What was this lady going on about?

"Are you a descendant of Pandora?" she repeated slowly and patiently. "Legend has it that one day, a descendant of hers shall come looking for the map. That person shall either destroy the world, or finally restore peace, depending on their choices when they find the Box. I think you're that descendant. The Greek gods were sending us a message when they snapped your noose."

"Sure," I gasped, standing on tiptoe to avoid choking on the nope around my neck. I was too short for the damned thing. "Sure," I repeated, agreeing with whatever she was saying. Anything to get me down from the gallows.

"Claude! Cut her loose. And someone bring me that map!" the old woman shouted with surprising clarity. "We've finally found our descendant of Pandora!"

I rolled my eyes as Claude reached up to remove the rope from around my neck unhappily. Apparently, this man liked hangings. Well, whatever floats the old lady's boat; but I wasn't going to tell her that I wasn't really a descendant of the Greek myth. I think. No, that's stupid. I _know_. Pandora wasn't real, if you ignored the fact her Box was apparently real. This day kept getting weirder and weirder. These people thought I was her long-lost child or something. Or maybe it wasn't the people who were strange; maybe it was me who was going crazy.

I wasn't about to complain, though. If we were actually getting the map handed straight to us without a fight, then, well, who was I to argue?

The rope wasn't quite off my neck when an explosion shook _La Cour des Miracles._ Something that seemed an awful lot like a bomb exploded right beside the gallows, and it completely knocked me off my feet as the entire wooden structure was blown to bits.

People screamed. Had that really just happened? I glanced over to the site of the explosion and saw none other than Indiana Jones, standing over a broken barrel of gunpowder. He had a flaming torch in his hands. Connecting the dots, I realized that he must have blown up the gallows to get me away from it, and he didn't hear the little exchange between me and the elder woman. But now the Court was ablaze with fire; the explosion was bigger than he had hoped. Flames engulfed people and structures alike as the screams and crying got louder and more terrified.

Leave it to Indy to make things up as he goes along, and possibly destroy the famous Court of Miracles.

I crawled out from under the wreckage of the gallows and ripped the noose from around my neck. A pair of hands helped me up and brushed the hair out of my face; I looked up at Mutt Jones silently while he wiped some of the grim away from my cheeks carefully.

The greaser looked so handsome in the firelight. His eyes were blazing softly, soot covered his perfect hair and features, and he looked just as much like a rebel as he probably ever would. I reached up and lightly touched the tiny scar on his cheek from Irina Spalko's rapier; it was our connection, and the only time when Mutt seemed to melt under my touch and completely fall under my control.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him so badly, and I knew that now was the time. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not when I had so many mixed emotions about him - and James. Not when I still thought Mutt hated me. Not when I was so confused about what was going on in my life. Not when my feelings were jumbled up - feelings of fear, anger, trauma and what was happened right now.

And especially not when _La Cour des Miracles _was falling down around us.

We leaped over the blazing gallows and ran towards Jeff and Marion, who were searching frantically for the others in our group.

Indiana jogged over to us hurriedly. "There's an exit over there," he pointed to a small door from which people were escaping the burning room. We headed over towards the spot when I realized James was missing.

"Where is he?" I cried out, stepping away from the rest of my group.

"Doll, there's no time. We need to leave," Mutt said, trying to pull me back towards the exit. But I wasn't planning on leaving without James anytime soon.

Running through the burning cave in the catacombs, I noticed a few tents set up here and there throughout the place. Most of them had been destroyed by fire already, but I checked inside of a few of the intact ones. Growling in frustration, I found that Mutt was following me throughout the maze of flames.

"Go away," I grumbled, knowing he was probably there to discourage me from my search. Well, it wasn't going to work.

The search became more of a chase: the greaser running after me. Eventually, though, he gave up and instead tried to help me find James even faster.

We found the preppy in an empty tent - well, almost empty. There was one thing in there: the map of Pandora.

The letterman clutched the faded and worn parchment against his chest, guarding it with his life. "You came all the way back here," Mutt said to him in disbelief, "for this? Wow. I didn't think you were this deep. I mean, trying to help us out? I thought you weren't capable of it!"

James wiped some soot off his face. "Shut up, dog. I did it for Madison." And then, as if to rub it in, the letterman kissed me. Hard. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, kissing me on the lips with all the force he had.

For the first time in my life, I actually pushed him off.

"Stop using me as leverage to get one-up on Mutt," I stomped on his foot, and he winced. "And stop going around thinking you can kiss me like that. Especially when I don't want you to." Storming out of the tent, I started to wonder if maybe it would have been better to just leave James behind, like Mutt wanted.

Speaking of Mutt, I turned around the see the tent I had just emerged from envelope in flames. James was standing beside me, but Indiana's son wasn't. Oh, shit.

I called out the greaser's name frantically, trying to figure out if he was still in the tent. No, no, no, he couldn't just be killed like this, could he?

I screamed as he emerged from behind the tent, covered head-to-foot in soot.

"Damn you!" I cried out loudly, punching him in the arm. "You had me worried!"

"Sorry, baby," he grinned, before leading James and I back to the exit, where the others were impatiently waiting.

We left the burning Court in silence. As soon as we were back in the catacombs, the lights, sound, noise and heat of the Court of Miracles felt like a dream. We raced through the tunnels, following some of the last straggling beggars. The run from the Court to the exit of the catacombs was short - good. I was ready to pass out. Exhaustion, emotional stress, fear, hunger, thirst, exposure to heat and the trauma from almost being hanged was really taking its toll on me.

Finally, we found the manhole that lead up to the surface of the earth. After climbing a tall ladder until I reached the street level, I stepped out into sunlight. It was morning, and the blue sky had never seemed so bright. I found it hard to believe that we had actually made it out alive, and that I was actually seeing the sun again. The couple of minutes without light in the catacombs when we were coming from the Court had scared me way too much. This catacomb exit emerged onto a set of train tracks; just like the entrance. I smiled, watching the last of the beggars retreat somewhere as my group of survivors headed back to our hotel in silence, putting our horrifying experiences in the catacombs and _La Cour des Miracles_ behind us. None of us wanted to think about what had just happened in there, but I knew that one day, I was going to have to face it and come to terms with everything.

xXxXx

It had seemed to finish like a dream, but here we were a couple hours later, sitting in Indy's bedroom. I had taken a shower, eaten about a week's worth of food, and then slept for a couple hours. It was now October 2nd in the evening, and I surprisingly felt rested as we sat down in a circle on the bed and looked at the map James had rescued. When I first tried to read it, I couldn't understand any of the markings. Indy then explained (in his college professor voice) that I was reading it upside-down. I had certainly felt pretty stupid after that.

He told us everything was written in ancient Greek, and that it pinpointed the location of Pandora's Box to the south of the Greek city Athens. Indiana was explaining the map to us in great detail, but I wasn't paying any attention. Instead, I was thinking of Mutt.

My greaser hadn't been getting quite as mad at me anymore, but that might have been because he wasn't talking to me as much. I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the letters imprinted into Mutt's dog tag, which now had its permanent place against my chest and around my neck. It had his birthday and his full name on it, and I had made a bad habit of playing with it and memorizing the pattern of the letters and numbers. Looking up at Mutt, I saw him staring back at me, and I blushed and focused on the map. Sort of.

The question of 'was what Marion said about her son true?' was taking over my mind at every waking hour. I so desperately want Mutt to like me just that sometimes I thought I was making things up in my mind. We hadn't really 'connected' since the motorcycle and car chase through London. I felt like a little fat child running after an ice cream truck: he was something that I wanted, but it didn't seem like I would ever get him.

I remembered something my French teacher had once said: look with your heart, and not your eyes. Well, I still liked Mutt even when my eyes were closed. But did he like me back? Did he even see me as anything more than a cube or a preppy? I know he must think I didn't like him, since I was the letterman's girlfriend who was supposed to hate greasers. And I was always falling all over James, even though I didn't like him that much anymore. Maybe it was time to start showing Mutt I liked _him_ - and then maybe he would admit whether or not he liked me too.

"That's it," Indiana wrapped up his speech about the map, and I startled out of my daydream. "There's a plane leaving for Greece in two hours that I want to be on, alright? So let's get going."

I rushed into my room and packed my non-existent objects and clothing that I had to bring, before meeting everyone down in the lobby half an hour later. Just as we were leaving the hotel, Marion suddenly called out "Henry Jones!"

"What?" both Mutt and Indiana exclaimed, looking back at her. I burst into laughter, deciding I should start calling Mutt his real name more often, just to annoy him.

Marion rolled her eyes. "It's not that funny, Madie. I just wanted to tell Indy that he left the map in the hotel room. Here, I brought it down for you," she passed the scrolled parchment over to her husband.

"That's funny. I'm positive I put it in my suitcase," he mumbled. "Someone must have taken it out."

I sighed. "Stop acting like everything is a mystery, Indy," I smiled. "Let's just go to Greece. Tell me, do you think our trip is almost over?"

"You mean this adventure? Yeah. But this lifestyle? Not even close to being finished," he chuckled. "Honey, it's only just beginning."

xXxXx

**A/N: **I'M NOT DEAD! I'm so so so so SO sorry I haven't updated in forever; life has been too hectic! I swear I will try and update more often now! The reason this took so long to post was because I wrote it, hated it, deleted it, got writers block, and then wrote five other random fanfictions that I'm never even going to publish. I'm so extremely sorry! It's all the fault of Writer's Block. Damned thing.

Anyways, this is not my best work. But I hope you enjoyed it anyways!

The Court of Miracles was a real place in Pairs, by the way. Just in case you didn't know :P

If you're confused about anything, i.e. Karpol's death, don't worry. It will later be explained.

Thank you to everyone who follows and favourites this story!

HUGE thanks to the people who review (blah, will, ks90, merlincrazy, and Emily Maria)! I know I say this every time, but seriously, you guys rock. Please don't forget me!

I've decided something: I will update after 5 reviews, okay everyone? So if you want this story to continue (and you want me to update faster) then you need to review! Otherwise… :(

And c'mon. 5 reviews isn't even that much.

That's pretty much all. I don't own anything you recognize or Indiana Jones, and the song at the beginning is by Rihanna.

LoTs Of LoVe

LeXi (WhO pRoMiSeS tO uPdAtE fAsTeR)

3


	16. Chapter 16: Judas

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 16: _Judas_

_I wanna love you/but something's pulling me away from you/Jesus is my virtue/and Judas is the demon I cling to_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

Words can't describe Greece.

The towns and cities, the lives and spirits, the colors and sounds – everything makes up an amazing country. I could imagine the thousands of people who walked the paved streets for hundreds of years. Ancient Greeks stood where I stood, walked where I walked, and saw some of the things that I saw. The history of Athens was enough to take my breath away – and probably Indiana's, too. He was an archaeologist, after all, and we were in one of the oldest countries in the world.

We didn't arrive in Athens until early in the morning, and we checked into our hotel quickly. Everyone seemed to be in an especially foul mood for no apparent reason; even Marion didn't seem to have a very happy outlook on life at the moment. No one was happy to be nearing the end of our adventure. Not because it was the end, but because we knew things couldn't really get better. Something was going to go wrong in the last leg of our journey. It was inevitable...

"Madie. Madie? Madie! Are you even listening to me, baby?" Mutt's voice cut through my mental mind-fog.

"What?" I responded irritably.

"I was just trying to tell you that your shoe was untied."

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him childishly for the billionth time this trip. "Anyways. What's the plan now?"

"Well, the map said that Pandora's Box was hidden about a ten minute walk to the south of Athens. We'll walk there," Indiana said, "and along the way, we can stop at an early-morning market, so Marion can look around like she wanted." His wife grinned, pleased he was letting her do that, besides the fact it wasn't going to help with the trip in the least bit, unless we found something we might need.

"Um, Indiana?" I asked him suddenly when I remembered something. "What are we going to do with the Box when we find it? We don't even have the Key," I spread my hands wide, to show him they were empty and to symbolize a very important part that we were missing.

"As long as we can get the Box, it'll be fine," my uncle Jeff smiled at me. "Indiana knows a secret government base in the States where all the dangerous artifacts he finds are stored, like the Ark of the Covenant. He'll put the Box there, too. The Key isn't needed as long as the Box is there." I nodded in understanding, and then we started our trek through Athens.

It was the morning, and people were bustling around, going about with their daily work and chores. I heard people yelling to each other in Greek, and was a bit frustrated to find that I couldn't understand a word they were saying. They had an entirely different alphabet, anyways!

As if on cue, a little boy of about nine years old ran up to me, shouting excitedly. He waved a dictionary of some sort in the air, and held up ten fingers. "Don't buy anything from kids like him, Madie. He's probably a gypsy," Indiana forewarned, but I shook my head. He didn't look like someone who would scam me – I mean, he was hardly ten years old!

Through what little English the boy knew, he told me he would give me his Greek dictionary, which would help me talk with the locals, if I payed him ten dollars in the Greek currency. I only had nine dollars on me, though, but the boy took it happily, giving me the dictionary and then running off as fast as he could, dodging through people's legs and knocking a couple baskets over in haste. I was starting to wonder why he had scampered away in such a hurry when Mutt grabbed the book out of my hands roughly and opened it.

"That little guy hadn't been lying when he said it was a Greek dictionary, doll," Mutt started to laugh along with Marion, who was looking at the book from over her son's shoulder. "Babe, you just wasted all your money."

I took it back and flipped through the pages, blowing a loose strand of my brown hair out of my face. While I had thought he was selling me a Greek-English translating dictionary, he had actually given me a dictionary filled with Greek words and their definitions, and everything was written in Greek. Well. I guess Indy had been right when he called the little boy a gypsy... The ensuing search for the thief was pointless. I never got my money back.

We now stood in a marketplace, surrounded by houses, people, stone streets and vendors trying to sell everything from food to clothing. Marion bought a dress and Mutt payed for some food for everyone – and they both bought from trustworthy vendors, unlike me. No one else scammed us (especially with Indiana Jones glaring at everyone who walked past).

We made our way through Athens quickly, stopping here and there to admire some of the most ancient parts of the city. It was my uncle and my college professor's haven, even though they had probably both been here before. Still, Greece never gets old. And I don't mean that literally.

I found myself walking beside Mutt, and when I realized this, I started blushing. Not because I had done something stupid or embarrassing, but because my little 'crush' on the greaser was becoming much, much more that a crush. I tried to start some small talk, but it didn't go over too well until I brought up the subject of his past: "So, why hadn't I met you until a few months ago?"

"We met a few months ago?" he asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Um," I started to laugh nervously, "no. But I only noticed you a few months ago." Truth was, I had developed a crush on him back then. But I wasn't about to tell him that anytime soon.

"Well, doll, I only moved to Bedford in August, actually. I lived a little ways away with my mother before then; we moved there after we met Gramps."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I keep forgetting you only met your father recently." I paused for thought, before speaking up again. "Did you have a stepdad?"

"Yeah. His name was Colin Williams. Great dad, he was – but he was killed in the Second World War. It's really too bad, babe. He was a better father than Indy," he finished bitterly.

"I heard that," Dr. Jones called from where he was walking with Marion up ahead of us. He didn't sound angry, though.

Mutt just shrugged. "Well, he wasn't around for the first nineteen years of my life, and he's suddenly just walked in now. Plus, he acts like he can just control everything. You got to understand, baby, that I'm allowed to say what I want." Returning to the subject we were currently talking about, though, he told me about Harold Oxley, his mentor and the man who helped Marion raise him after Williams was killed.

"So... people used to know you as Mutt Williams?" I asked in disbelief.

"Pretty much. I hated my full name – actually, I still hate it, doll."

"Henry Jones III."

"Henry _Walton _Jones III," he grumbled unhappily, and I started to giggle.

"That's a terrible name."

"I know," he cracked a smile that made my heart stutter a bit. "That's why I picked Mutt as the name people are supposed to call me."

"Well, I like both your names," I smiled, but he just put his hands in his pockets and stared down at the ground, kicking up a couple pebbles. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, trying to use it as symbolism that it was no big deal. "I was just wondering what was going to happen to us when all this is over, doll."

"Happen to... us?" I trailed off, catching one of his words and seeing that it meant more than he wanted me to realize. As the greaser stared at his feet, thinking, I looked up at the sky, which had grown dark. There were thunderclouds gathering; it was going to rain soon.

"I- I meant- I meant us as in everyone," he stuttered, realizing his slip-up. I smiled a little bit, hiding behind a curtain of my hair so he wouldn't see. I knew what he really meant – us as in _me and him._ The thought gave me little butterflies.

"Well, I don't know," I stopped smiling. "I guess... I guess we'll just have to go back to our normal, boring lives. I don't want to go back, though."

"I know how you feel, babe."

"But it'll be different for you, won't it?" I started as some fat drops of rain started to descend from the sky. "I mean, you still have Indy as a father. And your mother understands you; she supports you. Who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and get to go on another adventure. Me? I have to go back to my parents, who try to control every little thing I do, and a mother who doesn't understand me or anything I want to do. My father always makes sure I stay out of trouble, and stay straight as an arrow. He never wants me to step out of line, and makes sure I go to school, hang out with the right people, and learn how to become a good housewife, or whatever. Because he expects me to grow up, get married, have a family and then live a perfect American life. But I don't want any of that anymore! But to answer your question – nothing. Nothing is going to happen to us. We're going to have to go on living normally, as much as I – as we – hate it."

It was really starting to pour now, and Mutt pulled me aside, under the awning of a pastry store. Marion, Indiana, Jeff and James had all gone inside, but Mutt and I stayed in the fresh air. People were running around trying to get out of the rain as Mutt shrugged out of his prized leather jacket and put it around my shivering shoulders. He hadn't done that in a long time; it gave me a bit a comfort, just like it had every other time.

We stayed in silence, waiting out the rain, or at least waiting for it to become less heavy. Mutt and I hadn't gotten out of the downpour fast enough, though; we were both soaking wet. My hair stuck to my forehead, and the greaser was desperately trying to save the grease in his hair and keep his pompadour in place. But once he was done his rescue mission, he reached out and pulled me into his embrace. I was shocked still, and just stood there stiffly in his arms, but after a moment or two, I wrapped my own arms around him and let his warmth soak into me. Mutt buried his face in my wet hair; I glanced inside the shop to see Marion winking at me. Indiana looked on knowingly, as if he knew exactly what was between his son and me. Plus, for once I was pleased that James didn't randomly run up to us and interrupt the fragile silence that was so calm, comforting and so right.

I really, really liked Mutt. But how was I going to tell him that? Would I ever find enough guts to tell him that anyways? I've battled Russians and creepy monsters in the bottom of a tomb in England; I've illegally walked through the catacombs and survived a hanging. So why couldn't I just tell a man I liked him? He was barely a man anyways; more like a boy!

"Are all greasers like you?" I asked, settling for that simple question.

I felt him chuckle beneath me. "No, not really. Most greasers I know are part of a gang, and actually do pretty dangerous stuff, doll. I mostly just stay in the shadows and act tough. To tell you the truth, babe, you're the first person I've admitted that to. I mean - admitted that I'm not your real-dangerous stereotypical greaser that your parents teach you about. I'd never even been in a real fight before I went to Akator with my dad. I just act tough, baby, because I sure as hell don't belong with the preppies, and I dropped out of school because I wanted to work with motorcycles and fix them."

I hugged him a little bit tighter. "You're still a greaser to me! And besides, you are tough. Otherwise, we would probably be dead or kidnapped right now. Honestly, Henry, you doubt yourself way too much."

He buried his face in the top of my head again. "Don't call me Henry," was the only thing he said.

The rain was starting to let up a little bit, and the rest of our group walked outside. I could still hardly see through the rain and the fog that was now rolling in, but Marion quickly purchased umbrellas from a nearby vendor and we continued on our journey through the now-empty streets of Athens.

We left the marketplace behind and strode through more domestic avenues; the streets on which there were houses and where people lived. It was quiet except for the splashing of our feet in puddles. I wasn't wearing rain boots, simply my converse, and my feet were already soaked, along with the rest of my clothing (minus Mutt's leather jacket, from which the rain just rolled right off). My greaser had nothing but a dull blue t-shirt on, but he didn't seem cold. Just wet. Besides, I liked the way his muscles shone in the light from the rain. He was a strong man; stronger than my boyfriend, who had been the high school football captain.

My boyfriend. I hadn't given the guy a single thought since I had come to Europe. Did the fact I was romantically linked with James, and that I was falling for Mutt, mean I was cheating on my American letterman boyfriend? Sadly, I think it did. Hopefully no one would tell him, and hopefully I wouldn't start feeling guilty anytime soon...

I hadn't thought about a lot of people in a long time, including my parents and my friends. More specifically, my friends. They were complete preppies who would probably faint if they found out what I was doing right now. Well, that was why I didn't exactly think I was a preppy myself. More like a greaser – besides the fact I hadn't ever even heard of a female greaser. They were people who joined gangs – and that just didn't happen to females.

Anyways, I was in Athens, Greece. Not back near Marshall College. And I needed to concentrate on the search for Pandora's Box. That was what had brought me here anyways – an ancient Greek myth that half of the people I knew didn't even know about. And yet, if the Box got into the wrong people's hands, it could mean the end of the world.

Mere minutes passed by, and we arrived 'south of Athens.' The place indicated on the ancient map was an old archaeological dig site; it had been abandoned, but was now used as a tourist attraction. There was a restaurant, museum and public washrooms a couple feet away, and it ruined the old-fashioned feel of everything.

"I don't know what we're supposed to be searching for," Indiana said. "Who knows, the Box could be simply buried in this dig site, or it could already have been removed a while ago. I doubt the latter, though. Everyone simply needs to search this place until we find something, anything, that may be a clue as to where the Box is."

Our group split up, searching for clues like the Scooby gang. I kicked around dirt, mud and stones, while the rain created rivers of water down my back and face. We searched for God-knows-what for over a half an hour before we all started to shiver from the cold. I called Indiana over to where I was standing.

"Have you found something?" he asked.

"No," I shook my head. "I was just going to tell you that I was going to go to the bathroom," I pointed towards the public restrooms. The college professor rolled his eyes and waved me ahead. As I trudged through the muck towards the gray building, I thought I spotted a shadow or two moving behind the restrooms. But when I tried to look harder, I couldn't see anything through the rain.

I was dragging my feet along a paved sidewalk when I stepped on a wobbly tile. The sidewalk was made of separate sections that were each made of a sturdy concrete. But the section that I was now standing on was decidedly _not _sturdy; it moved and creaked underneath the weight of my foot. I bent down to inspect it, and found that it indeed did wobble, as if it wasn't supposed to be there or it wasn't part of the original instalment…

Or, it was made to be removable.

I called Mutt and James over to help lift the stone tile out of its place. The others came over to look, wondering if I had found something.

Apparently I had. Once the pavement was removed, it revealed a dark, gaping hole with a small staircase leading down, not unlike the catacombs.

"You think this is it?" James asked, peering down the hole.

Indiana shrugged. "There's only one way to find out." He started down the dark staircase, regretting the fact we didn't have a flashlight or anything of the sort. Marion, James and Mutt followed Indy, precisely in that order, and I was just stepping down when I heard the sounds of a struggle behind me. Turning, I saw two dark forms (which looked strangely similar to the ones I had seen behind the washrooms) drag my uncle off against his will. I screamed in shock as a hand reached out to grab me, too, but I ducked into the hole and raced down the stairs, pushing the people in front of me.

"Someone's following us. Jeff's been kidnapped," I exclaimed breathlessly to a worried Indiana, but luckily no one followed us down the stairs. I couldn't believe that I hadn't done anything to prevent my uncle from being kidnapped, but then again, I probably would have been taken as well if I had tried to fight those men off. But now I had lost my uncle, and who knows, maybe he would be killed! Things weren't going too well already, and we had barely just started.

"It must have been Claymore and the Russians who kidnapped him," Indiana mused aloud in his deep voice. "What I can't imagine is how they found us here. They've never seen the map, and they didn't follow us when we escaped London." We continued down the staircase in an eerie silence, only able to hear the rain above our heads, our footsteps, and our hearts pounding in our chests. We were reaching the last horrifying leg of our journey, and if we survived this, then things would have to go back to normal. No more being awfully close to my college professor - he would just become another teacher at the school. No more of Marion's fabulous cooking. No more secret feelings for Mutt. No more anything. Just a cube life that's already been mapped out. Unless I went on another adventure, of course. But what were the odds of that?

I wanted to cry. Why did everything have to be so goddamn confusing?

The bottom of the staircase stretched out into a large rectangular room. There was only a little light to see by from the hole in the ceiling above us, but James had a pocket lighter that he held up above his head so we could see a bit. Marion found a torch that she held up to James's lighter; with the light of the burning torch, we could see the room clearly.

The floor and walls were made of marble, and there were marble pillars supporting the ceiling, not unlike the pillars of the Parthenon. The walls behind the pillars, though, were made of some sort of sandstone or clay. Painted on them were pictures of ancient Greek myths; I saw some of the goddesses and gods looking down at us. None of the paintings were really intact anymore, though; most of them had either chipped or faded away, or chunks of the sandstone on which they were painted had fallen down. There was one painting, though, that was still perfect and in pristine condition. It was that of a woman with pale skin and a beautiful face, but her eyes were blindfolded. Strangely enough, she had sleeping green snakes on her head instead of hair. Actually, there were quite a few paintings of this woman all over the place, all with her eyes covered in some way or another.

I walked over to Indiana, who was examining a half-ruined painting of Zeus. He looked up as I got closer and pointed towards the snake-haired woman. "Who's that?" I said, as he peered at her, squinting.

"I'm pretty sure that's Medusa," he said, rubbing his hands on the sides of his pants. "It was said that she was a gorgon, and she could turn people to stone just by looking at them."

"That's why her eyes are covered in all the paintings," I mused, and Indy nodded.

"Not all of them..." I heard someone say slowly from somewhere to my left, and I turned sharply to see James staring at the most hideous picture I had ever seen. While the other pictures had made her look beautiful, in this one the snakes were awake and hissing, and Medusa's eyes were uncovered. They were green and slit like a cat's. I couldn't tear my eyes away, though, no matter how ugly the picture. There was something entrancing and mesmerizing about her gaze...

"Madie! Don't look in her eyes; you'll be petrified!" Indiana called from what sounded like miles and miles away, and I vaguely felt him shake my arm. But all feeling was slowly starting to disappear, and my brain felt cloudy. I tried to shake my head to clear my thoughts, but found I couldn't move. The shouts of my companions became more and more distant, and the only thing I could see were Medusa's eyes... she seemed to be coming alive in the picture, and the snakes leaped out and hissed at me. I was almost under her complete spell when something hard knocked into me and I fell to the floor, accidentally tearing my gaze away from the gorgon. The spell had been broken, but it still felt like there were snakes slithering around in my head.

I looked up to see what had saved me from becoming a stone attraction. It was Mutt, who had body-checked me so that I fell to the floor and could no longer see the Greek monster. He was now partially lying on top of me, staring into my eyes.

"You okay now, doll?" he asked, trying to block my gaze from returning to the uncovered gorgon's eyes. I nodded speechlessly, unmoving. I still felt like a stone, even though I (luckily) wasn't one.

But that fate wouldn't be the same for everyone. I heard Marion do a combination of a gasp and a shriek as a crumbling sound filled the room. I didn't know what it was, so I cowered under Mutt, who continued to protect me from it. But it disappeared after a couple seconds, and Indiana swore colourfully. Because of this, I looked up, no longer able to hold my curiosity of what had made the sound.

It was James. He had looked up into Medusa's eyes, and there hadn't been a greaser to knock him over. Everyone had been so preoccupied with Mutt trying to rescue me that they hadn't noticed Joe College turning into a huge chunk of petrified stone. And now he was just there, standing and doing nothing, a big hunk of rock. He had even turned gray, like a stone, and stood unmoving. In a way, it was kind of disturbing.

"What do we do?" Marion cried out, covering her eyes just in case she looked at Medusa... all of a sudden, something dark obscured my vision and I couldn't see anything.

"What the hell, Mutt? I'm not going to look at the damned gorgon. You don't need to cover my eyes for me," I said, half irritated and half laughing. He had placed his hand over my line of vision, and now he took it away, smiling sheepishly. I smiled back unabashedly. "What are we going to do now?" I asked Indiana, careful to not look at the wall. "Are we just going to leave James here?" I worried. Mutt shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of the position he was still lying in on top of me. We both stood up awkwardly as the greaser's father assessed the situation.

"Well, you said that your uncle Jeff had been kidnapped, right?" he asked.

I nodded. "Well, he's not here now, is he?"

"Right. So either we leave James behind with the risk of him being kidnapped or killed, since he's a stone and can't really protect himself..."

"Let's leave him here!"

"Shut up, Junior. It's not your choice. Our other option is to drag him along after us."

"Is that even possible?" Marion asked, looking at the rock-person doubtfully. Indiana walked up to him and lightly tapped the letterman on the shoulder; he lightly fell onto the ground with hardly a sound. He was like a heavy feather. Indy then proceeded to pick up James around the waist, holding him like a surfboard, and told us all he was surprisingly light, for a rock-person.

"The only problem will be the bulk," he said, but motioned for us to continue on our journey with the now-immobile James. Mutt looked especially upset and pissed off about this, but he said nothing. I simply took his hand and squeezed it, trying to comfort him in a way.

There was a door at the other end of the room, and we all walked towards it, carefully avoiding glancing or looking at the walls. Who knew, there could be another Medusa without a blindfold painted somewhere. And we didn't want to risk losing another person.

Our group was now down to simply four of us – well, four of us who could move, anyways. There was Indiana, his number-one sidekick Mutt, and his 'love interest' Marion. I guess it could have been like old times (besides the fact that this was only Mutt's second adventure), except I was there now, intruding on the 'family time,' which was more like 'who can survive the longest' time. But on the bright side, Indiana had told me I was sort of a part of their group of explorers and adventurers now, like a sidekick to his sidekick. And I took a lot of pride in that statement. I mean, come on. Who wouldn't kill to be a Jones? I was having the most fun – and the most terrifying experiences – ever with them. And I wasn't looking forward to the end (besides the fact that at the end we would finally be out of danger), because that meant that all _this _would end.

Indiana opened the door at the end of the room carefully, peering inside, but he didn't seem to find anything _too_ out of the ordinary or dangerous, so he opened it wider and let everyone through. We emerged in a small underground cavern of some sort, on a beach made of black stones and sand. The beach was hardly twenty paces long; in front of us, the beach ended where some sort of lake began. The startling blue of the wide lake was a huge contrast to the black of the beach and the ceiling and walls around us. Marion slowly walked towards the lake, which was the same color as the summer sky. There was a rowboat nestled on the beach, half-in and half-out of the water. It was made of wood, and surprisingly looked sturdy, considering it was probably hundreds of years old. We seemed to be the only people to have walked here in thousands of years.

"Uh..." I started. "So do we just, um, get in the boat and row to the other side or something?" I thought I could see another strip of land at the opposite end of the lake, which looked very, very far away. It was hard to tell, though, because of a thick mist that enveloped everything. Well, the boat was the only way we could go forwards. Otherwise, we would have to give the entire thing up and go back into the Medusa room, before going outside.

"I guess so. Don't look at me. I'm making this up as I go along," Indy shrugged, stepping into the lake and tugging the boat a bit more into the water. Marion and her son hopped in; I followed slowly. I was kind of freaked out, and not trusting the rickety old boat besides the fact it _looked_ pretty sturdy. Something was going to go wrong; I just knew it. I had a rather small fear of boats, because my grandfather had been killed in a boating accident when I was ten. All the same, I was going to do everything I could to stay out of the lake.

Shakily, I stepped into the boat. I almost cried out when it tilted sharply to the right, but Mutt steadied it and helped me in completely. Indiana gave the boat one last tug, and it floated out slowly into the lake. My college professor jumped in at the last moment, his pants soaking wet from the knee down. After he dumped some of the cold water out of his boots, he grabbed a hold of the ores on either side of the boat, and he started rowing.

The first half of the ride went surprisingly smoothly – literally. There wasn't a single ripple on the water. I was just starting to relax and think that the ride might just go well when I saw three islands of some sort in the middle of the lake. No one else had noticed them yet; Mutt was too busy combing his hair, and Marion and Indiana were whispering quietly to each other at the front of the boat. I peered at the islands. They were small, rocky and surrounded by cliffs, but on those rocks were flowers and grass, like a meadow. Still, the rocks that surrounded them looked dangerously sharp and were about a stone's throw from the south side of the island. All in all, they were beautiful to look at, but dangerous. Each of the three islands was hardly even bigger than the rowboat we were in.

I was tapping on Mutt's shoulder, trying to get his attention, when three beings appeared from out of nowhere. They all stood in the centre of the meadow on the middle island, shrouded in mist. I was so eager to see them more clearly that I actually ignored my fear of falling out of the boat and leaned out over the water; it wobbled a bit, but didn't tilt over. The figures were definitely feminine, and I gasped out loud when the mist lifted a bit and revealed the three absolutely beautiful women standing on the island. They were all unearthly gorgeous, with long flowing hair that reached their waists and thin, curvy bodies. The women were clothed in thin wraps of cloth, and from their backs protruded majestic cream-coloured wings that were so powerful they could have knocked a house over. The women sat down cross-legged in a circle on the flowery meadow, grasping hands. I finally got Mutt's attention, and he glanced over in amazement. Marion and Indiana looked, too, and Indy stopped rowing to stare. I was just opening my mouth to ask what they were when the bird-women started to sing.

Opening their mouths wide, a sweet sound emerged over the lake, filling the air. It was the clearest and most beautiful sound I had ever heard. They sung loudly in voices fit for angels, telling stories in another language about a different time and place. It was irresistible, and was as sad as it was sweet. Both my body and soul seemed to hear the song and the music; but it was corrupted. I was mesmerized – but only for a few moments. After that, the sweetness became a bit sickening, and I turned forward, about to tell Indiana to keep rowing, when I saw the look on my college professor's face.

His expression was filled with such awe, love and wonder it was startling. It was like he was under a trance, just like I had been when I had looked in Medusa's eyes, except this trance seemed a lot more powerful. Furrowing my brow, I waved my hand in front of his face, but he made no reaction except to drop the ores and lean closer to the sound of the singing.

"Indy? Hello?" Marion asked, worried. She looked at me in confusion. What was he doing? The man seemed not to notice anything but the women on the island, and he looked like he was ready to save the world for them. In a way, it was like love, except it was more like... an obsession.

Suddenly, Marion and I jumped when we heard a splash behind us. Turning, I watched in horror as time seemed to slow down – Mutt, who was in the same trance as his father, dived overboard, rocking the boat dangerously. I reached a hand out towards him, but really, what was that going to do? The greaser slipped through my fingers and sunk beneath the surface of the lake for a moment, before popping back up. He started to swim towards the island with the singing bird-women, but I realized that it would be impossible to reach them without impaling oneself upon the rocks. What was going on?

"Madie!" Marion called out frantically from behind me, and I saw that she was trying to restrain Indiana from jumping overboard and following his son. "Madison, I don't know what those things are, but I don't trust them. They're going to kill Mutt if you don't go save him!"

"What? Well, geez, Marion, he's your son. I'll keep Indy here if you go and save Mutt?" I said, but it was more of a question. I just really didn't want to jump in the lake. She glared at me as Indy lunged for the edge of the boat again, and I screamed a little as the rowboat started to tip severely.

"Goddammit, Madison! Just go save Henry! I'm not going to be able to hold Indy back much longer," the older woman gritted her teeth, referring to Mutt by his real name. I had to give her credit, though – she was tougher than she seemed. I mean, how many women do you know can hold back a grown man, let alone Indiana Jones?

I grimaced, looking down at the cold blue water. I really, really didn't want to go in there...

But it seemed I had no choice in the matter. Indiana lunged again, tipped the boat so far over that I fell into the lake, screaming. Luckily for Marion and her husband, though, they didn't fall, as the boat righted itself almost immediately afterwards.

I sank below the smooth surface, holding my breath and squeezing my eyes shut against the water. When my head broke above the surface again and I gasped for breath, I decided that maybe I may as well try and save Mutt. Even if I might die trying.

The mist was getting thicker, and I could barely see Mutt's retreating head in the darkness. Oohh, if he got out of this alive, he was going to be so pissed about his hair. Even my paper-shaker friends didn't care about their hair as much as he did.

Whimpering a little, I started to doggy-paddle after Mutt. One last glance at the desperate look on Marion's face because of her worry for the two men in her life was all I needed to make me start to actually front-crawl.

Unfourtanetly, Mutt was a strong swimmer than I was. He reached the island long before I reached him, and started circling it, looking for a way onto the shore. The prettiest of the bird-women, a girl with long blonde hair, stood up and walked closer to Mutt. She started to sing louder and more powerfully; I reached the deadly island just as she was reaching down to grab Mutt's outstretched hand. The look of awe on my greaser's face started to make me angry. Since when had Mutt ever payed this much attention to anyone? The goddamn bird-woman was really starting to piss me off... he was _my _greaser, and she was seducing him! There were inches between the woman's hand and Mutt's, and her song started to get louder and more entrancing. In that moment, I knew that if she got a hold of Mutt's hand, it would all be over for the man...

"YOU AIN'T NUTTIN' BUT A HOUND DOG!"

I recoiled in shock. Had I actually just yelled that at the top of my lungs?

All the same, I wasn't about to regret it anytime soon. The bird-woman was so surprised that she ceased her singing, staring at me in confusion. Mutt, too, looked up, partly awake now that her song had gone. But the woman soon realized I was no serious threat, so she continued to sing –

"CRYIN' ALL THE TIME!"

She glanced up again, this time angry. Her eyes gleamed red for a second, but the colour soon disappeared. We had both realized that when I sung – er, yelled – it broke her spell momentarily. Mutt was now torn – go with the beautiful singing bird-woman, or the crazy wet girl who was shrieking Elvis Presley songs at the top of her lungs?

For some reason, he chose me.

The greaser looked back at the woman once, a completely confused look on his face. He then turned to me, bobbing in the water. "Madie? What are we doing in the lake, babe? And who the hell is she?"

I breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to send Elvis a present when I got home. I don't even know how I knew that singing and surprising the bird-woman would break the spell, but it worked. The trance had been broken, just like when Mutt knocked me to the ground to keep me from being petrified. I reached out a hand to Mutt and he grasped it firmly, before I started to tow him back to the rowboat.

All of a sudden, the blonde woman who had tried to seduce Mutt let out an unholy shriek – and leaped into the water. I was momentarily afraid she was going to try to follow us, but she never reappeared above the surface. My best guess was she had drowned herself...

The urge to get back into the rowboat was becoming so strong I could barely swim. Luckily, I had my greaser with me to tug me along helpfully. Smiling at him, we made it back to the rowboat, which was still rocking because of Indiana's lurches. Two of the three bird-women were still singing, and he was still under their trance. I saw Mutt's eyes start to glaze over as well, as if he was falling under the spell again, but dunking his head under the water once woke him up easily.

We climbed back into the boat hurriedly, and Mutt quickly assessed the emergency of the situation. He grabbed the ores and started to row us across the lake again; I helped Marion restrain her husband. His struggled were so violent that she was close to tears. But once the remaining two bird-women realized we were getting away, they gave up and turned on each other, as if it was somehow the other's fault we had escaped. The sounds of their struggle died away as one was killed, and the other took her own life.

Once they were gone and the lake was silent again, Indiana returned to normal, to the relief of Marion, Mutt and me. He looked around bewilderedly for a few seconds, before focusing on our silent forms in the boat.

"What were those things?" were the first words out of anyone's mouth, and that mouth happened to belong to me.

"My best guess," my college professor said as he took the ores out of Mutt's hands, looking at Marion sheepishly because of his reckless behaviour when he was under the 'spell,' "was that they were Greek sirens. You know - bird-women who would sing and play music so they could lure sailors to their deaths on the sharp rocks of their islands, Sirenum Scopuli."

"But then why weren't Madie and I affected by their song?" Marion asked, shrugging out of her jacket (which was dry) and wrapping it around my shivering shoulders as her son tried to fix his hair in vain.

"It only works on men. That's why Mutt and I were so far under the spell. Sirens are known for killing themselves if a man escapes their clutches, though." Ah. So that was why the blonde one - and the others - had committed suicide.

We rowed in silence for the remaining five minutes, during which Mutt somehow succeeded in saving his wet, greasy hair and I somehow succeeded in not screaming when the boat almost tipped over again. Indiana was too embarrassed by his composure and reaction to the sirens to say anything, and Marion just stared off into space, thinking. At one point, I glanced down at the petrified James in the bottom of the boat, but I didn't really think much of him.

We finally reached the shore. It was identical to the first one; black beach, black sand, black rocks, and a closed door built into the wall. Indiana was just about to pull the rowboat onto land when we had all finished with it when, by some mysterious force, it was slowly tugged back out across the lake. I watched it disappear in the mist, all too aware that we were now stuck here unless we somehow got super-strength and an unlimited amount of energy, and decided to swim across the lake.

Everyone dragged their wet bodies – okay, Marion and Indiana weren't soaking wet, but still – up the small slope to the door. Mutt caught up to me and grabbed my hand, pressing his lips against my ear and whispering. "Thanks for saving my life back there, doll. I owe you one. By the way, you suck at singing," he chuckled. I just grinned foolishly, when suddenly he spontaneously grabbed me, held me closer to him and kissed my forehead, before running off to join his parents and leave me all alone, wondering what that had been about.

Dammit. Another chance to kiss him – wasted. But I still couldn't keep the silly smile off my face.

xXxXx

**A/N**: I'm back (again)! I don't know when the next time I can update will be, but I've already gotten a bit of the next chapter done. Yay!

During this chapter, I mentioned Scooby Doo; he wasn't actually around until a couple years later. Sorry. I just couldn't help it.

Gypsies are indeed still real; I've met a couple. I don't know if there are any in Greece, though; and they're not like the Disney kind.

Lots of what I wrote was fact; lots wasn't. Most of it was, though. I'm a Greek myth nut :P

I don't own Indiana Jones or anything related to him/anything you may recognize, and the song at the beginning is _Judas_ by Lady GaGa. I'm not a huge GaGa fan, but I really like that song. And plus, the lyrics I put up at the top sort of symbolize Madie's relationship with Mutt and James (who wasn't in this chapter very much, thank God).

Please review! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed (merlincrazy, Druid Archer, ks90, blah, iccle fairy, and x XRoweenaJAugustineX x)! You guys are the best. Just two more things: no flames please, and I'll update after 5 reviews, got it? Otherwise, no story

Last time I forgot to respond to Emily Maria's review of Chapter 14: What did you mean by the 'Mary-Sue' thing, and I cheated. I got my Indy hoodie from Disneyland. Heeheehee.

That's all!

LoTs Of LoVe  
LeXi BlAzE


	17. Chapter 17: Raphaël

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 17: _Raphaël_

_Il a l'air d'un ange, mais c'est un diable de l'amour/du bout des hanches et de son regard de velours/quand il se penche, quand il se penche, mes nuits sont blanches/et pour toujours... hmm_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

_**1953**_

_I smiled over at the cute boy who was helping me set up the gym for the annual grade 10 dinner-and-dance at our high school. He was tall, muscular, had messy black hair and a mischievous smile, and I vaguely wondered why I hadn't noticed someone that good-looking at our school before. He wore the school's football jacket, and I sidled over to him, checking the boy out from the corner of my eye. Maybe it would be possible to make this preppy my date for the 1953 dinner-and-dance..._

"_Hello," he smiled at me, winking. I dropped the box I was holding, and he reached down to pick it up. It was filled with decorations, and too heavy for anyone to carry, but the boy held it as if it was as light as a feather._

"_I'm James," he said, telling me he would carry the box. I blushed and looked down at my feet; sure, I may have been one of the most popular preppies in town, but that didn't mean I wasn't shy._

"_My name is Madison," I grinned, running my fingers through my high ponytail that was tied with a ribbon. We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, before I broke the silence. "Are you new around here?"_

_He made a face. "Yeah, I moved a couple months ago. I've actually lived all over the country; my father's job demands that he move around a lot. I'm hoping I'll get to stay here in Bedford for a while, though; I've already made quite a few friends and I'm captain of the football team."_

"_Really?" I asked with wide eyes. I was the 'gossip queen' of the school, and I hadn't heard any of that!_

"_Yeah. Coach made me captain a couple days ago. Now all I need to make my stay here perfect is a girl," he smiled cheekily. I blushed again, and pushed him over to the table where the boxes filled with decorations were. _

"_Well, maybe you'll meet someone cute at the dance," I shrugged. "I don't have a date yet, which is pretty strange, because usually boys are falling at my feet asking me out. I don't mean to be self-centered or anything," I giggled nervously, "but it's kind of true."_

"_Well, with your beauty, I can see why," James reached into the box and pulled out some golden paper stars that needed to be hung from the ceiling. "Help me with these, will you?"_

_We pulled up a ladder and set straight to work, James doing the actual job and me keeping the ladder steady. We started chatting about small things, and I learned that this James guy was actually really nice – he helped out at the local SPCA on weekends, and participated in all the school activities, like the decoration committee that we were currently working on right now. In turn, he learned things about me that I hadn't told anyone else – like my fear of heights, my over-protective parents, and my inability to cook. He was just so easy to talk to, and he was such a nice guy. I found myself developing a crush on him. Well, what else could I do? I was fifteen, and naïve. He was my age, and handsome. Plus, I didn't have a date for the dance – and I was starting to think that just maybe, we could be the perfect couple._

_A couple of college-age greasers walked into the gym, knocking over a table and sending a few of my preppy friends running. I turned in haste, eager to get out of their path of destruction, but I didn't want to leave James up alone on the ladder by himself. He climbed down though when he saw the perverted greasers with too much grease in their hair. _

"_What're you guys doing here?" the letterman asked, puffing out his chest as if it would make him look bigger and better. I hid behind him, peering out from around his body and looking at the older greasers with wide eyes. One of the younger ones, who only looked to be a year or two older than me, winked. _

"_Aw, don't get your knickers in a bunch. We're just looking for some fun," the oldest greaser said. I could smell the leather on him from a mile away – but for some reason, I didn't find it repulsing like I was supposed to. In fact, I liked it. _

_I zoned out of James's conversation with the greasers as I looked the older boys up and down. They certainly were dangerous; that much I could tell. But it was a strange kind of dangerous that made me nothing but curious. I wanted to know more about them; I wanted to know why they dressed the way they did, and rode motorcycles. I wanted to know what their lives were like, and what it was like not to have controlling parents, and to do whatever they wanted._

_That was probably the first time I had ever come within thirty feet of a greaser – and it was the first time I decided I wanted a life more like theirs. I wanted a life of adventure. _

_Of course, as fate would have it, I wouldn't get a life of adventure until I met my very own greaser four years later. _

_Some teachers interfered between James and the greasers at this point in time, and I could see easily that the boys were about ready to hit each other. As the older, untrustworthy guys walked away, James turned towards me and smiled._

"_What say we go get a milkshake at the local diner, Madison? I'd like to get to know you better," he said, and I nodded slowly. What I didn't realize was that that was our very first date; of course, he took me to the grade 10 dinner-and-dance a day or two later. From there, the rest is history._

_xXxXx_

"_James, if you tickle me one more time, I swear they're going to kick us out of the movie."_

"_It's a drive-in movie, Madison. No one cares if we're loud. And besides, if you didn't scream when I tickled you, this wouldn't be a problem."_

"_The people in the car next to us look angry. They want us to shut up."_

"_The people in the car next to us are our best friends. They'll understand."_

"_I don't know... Angie looks pretty pissed."_

"_Well, this can be our way of getting back at her for screaming the entire movie last time we saw a horror flick."_

"_She's allowed to scream! That movie was terrifying!"_

"_So I'm sure you're glad I was there to hold you tight, huh, Madison?"_

"_Oh, shut up. You screamed just as much as I did. Besides, I want to watch this movie _in peace!_ So stop the tickling!"_

"_You actually _want_ to watch this, uh, romance-slash-musical? What's it called again?_"

"_Oh my God. We're halfway through the film and you don't know what it's called. I thought you were smart!"_

"_Enlighten me on the title of this film, Madison. Or I will tickle you again."_

"_Ahhh! Don't tickle me, please! It's called – now, James, don't touch me – Seven Brides for Seven Brothers –ahhh! Stop it!"_

_James laughed, wiggling his fingers in front of my eyes as I tried to get as far away as possible from him in his convertible. The year was 1954, and we had only been going out for a year, but already the preppy and I were stuck together like glue. We wouldn't leave each other's sides._

_I yelped as James grabbed my ankle, and tugged me towards him. Instead of engaging in another one-sided tickle fight, though, he kissed me. I laughed and pushed him back into his driver's seat, not breaking the kiss. Soon, we were full-out making out, and I screamed a few moments later when someone opened the car door and slid into the seat beside us._

"_Relax, Madison. It's just me," my best friend and fellow preppy Angie said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm going to sit in your car because my boyfriend Andy won't shut up about how lame this movie is."_

"_Join the club," I glared at James, who snickered. "Mister tickle-pants here wants to watch another horror flick."_

"_No! Last time was scary enough. Besides, you and Andy suck at trying to comfort ladies."_

"_Do not," James complained, shrugging out of his letterman jacket and running a hand through his hair. "I held Madison through the whole thing."_

"_Only because I threatened to knock out one of your teeth if you didn't," I rolled my eyes. "You know I can hit better than half the guys on your football team." James kissed me softly on the lips again, looking in my eyes and smiling, before demanding that Angie get out of the car. She complained (as did I; the preppy was the only thing keeping James from tickling me again), but eventually she was kicked into the parking lot that we were currently sitting in._

_James looked into my eyes silently again, a serious expression on his face. I was just starting to get worried when he said "Madison, I have some good news, and some bad news."_

"_Good news first," I took his fist in my small hands, completely ignoring the movie in front of us. James smiled and took his hand away, pulling his class ring off of his finger._

"_Madison Clarke, I want you to go steady with me."_

"_Yeee!" I cried, throwing my arms around him and knocking him onto his back. I grinned like a fool as he held me tightly to him. "But what's the bad news?" I pulled away, furrowing my brow._

_James sighed and looked silently out of the car window, as if what he was about to say was going to be hard. "Just remember that it's not my choice, okay?"_

"_What's not your choice?" I demanded, reaching for him, but he shrugged away from me, as if he was afraid to touch my porcelain skin. _

"_My dad thinks we're going to have to move again," he finally said after a five-minute silence. I scrunched up my nose and looked at him out of the corner of my eye, but James didn't seem to be joking. He just stared blankly at the car's steering wheel, seemingly looking at nothing._

_All in one move, I threw open the car door and stormed out of his convertible. "Madison - where are you going?" he called out, but I walked briskly away, my poodle skirt twirling around me. I was angry and upset – because I knew that James was telling the truth._

_xXxXx_

_That night I walked all the way home alone, ignoring James when he pulled up beside me on the side of the road. We didn't speak for the next two days, before I finally broke down and Angie dragged me to the diner where we had our first date. My black-haired preppy boyfriend then confirmed it – his dad had accepted the business deal, and they would be moving sometime the next year. It wasn't just moving to another city or state, though – it was moving to an entirely different _continent_. I didn't want to face the fact that my heaven-on-earth was leaving me, but he was. At least he didn't bring up the idea of going steady again, as he realized that I wasn't really ready for that sort of stuff, especially since we probably wouldn't see each other ever again after he moved._

_Over the next year, we grew closer, spending every waking moment together. James and I were joined at the hip – no one could (or would) separate us. I was making the most of my time with him._

_Eventually, the day when he moved to London, England came. It was just after my 17__th__ birthday in 1955, and the day was hot and sunny. Angie threw a going-away party for James, and he spent the whole time with me, whispering things in my ear – things like 'I love you.' But what was the point of it all, since he was leaving?_

_I thought I would cry when he drove away with his father, but I didn't shed a tear. Instead, I just stood on their driveway, waving. I was starting to wake up to the fact that James and all his preppy-ness had been holding me back from my true potential, and what I could really be. I still wanted a life of adventure, just like I had on the first day of meeting him. But now, I had the chance to have that life._

_Over the next two years, I became stronger as a person, and more independent. The differences between me and my preppy friends were slowly becoming even more obvious, and although I was still the most popular girl in town, I didn't fit in. In a way, I was becoming a greaser, but at the same time, I wasn't. Of course, I wasn't really going to actually get close – _real _close – to a greaser until I met Mutt Jones. And that was when I finally had my long awaited 'adventure.'_

xXxXx

_**1957**_

Marion was the one who decided to lead us through the door this time, to whatever new horror awaited us silently. She opened the heavy door slowly, allowing us through before her. Inside, there was nothing. Just a white, circular room. I couldn't even see where the walls started and the floor began, it was so seamless. But there was one thing in there: a huge being with the haunches of a lion, and bird wings sprouting from its back. The head and chest, though, were decidedly feminine. The creature was at least two stories high, and it towered over us, sitting on its lion-legs.

"It's a sphinx!" Marion said excitedly. "But I thought sphinxes were Egyptian, not Greek?"

"They originated in Greece," Indiana said grimly, tensing.

"The legend says that the sphinx would ask someone a riddle, and if they got that riddle right, they could pass by her on their journey. Otherwise, she would eat them," Mutt suddenly said, sticking out his chest like a peacock. He was proud that he had actually known something.

His father smiled at him. "Right. But the sphinx always asked the same riddle. This should be easy; I studied Ancient Greece. I know the answer."

His words gave me a little bit of hope. Was this going to be even easier than I had thought? Maybe we were finally going to catch a break.

""Which creature in the morning goes on four legs, at mid-day on two, and in the evening upon three, and the more legs it has, the weaker it be?" the sphinx suddenly asked in a booming voice that was rather manly. It peered down at us, and I smelt with displeasure that its breath stank. The beady yellow eyes stared everyone down, but Indiana stood strong. He smiled at me, giving me full confidence that he knew the answer.

"The answer is Man. He crawls on all fours as a baby, walks on two feet as an adult, and then walks with a cane in old age," Indy smiled coyly, taking a step forwards as if he was expecting to sphinx to step aside and let us pass. Well, it should have, right? Indiana answered the riddle correctly. But the huge Greek monster didn't move and inch; it just snarled at my college professor, who stumbled back a few steps in surprise. "What? Didn't I get the answer right?"

"How did you know?" the sphinx hissed. "Everyone knows the answer nowadays! Every single person! This time, I won't let you pass."

"What? You can't do that!" Marion cried out, curling her hands into fists.

"I can, and I just did. I'm choosing a new riddle – one that you don't know the answer to. If you guess this question's answer correctly, then I shall let you pass." One look at Indiana's worried face was all I needed to know that he had no idea what another riddle would be. Besides, this wasn't how a sphinx worked; they were only allowed to ask one riddle, and then they had to step aside! It was like their law or something!

"Fine. We'll see if we can crack this one," Mutt said, much to his parent's annoyance. They had hoped to argue with the monster, not go along with what it said.

"There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first."

"What the hell?" I exclaimed. I was ready to punch this damned Greek thing in the face. Cheating bastard!

Our group huddled in a circle, looking into each other's worried eyes. "Indiana, have you ever read anything about that riddle?" Marion asked, but the archaeologist shook his head.

"Sadly, no. We're going to have to figure this one out by ourselves."

"Well," I started, "I obviously can't be a regular person. You can't give birth to your mom. That's impossible."

"Do you think she's talking about objects, then?" Mutt asked.

Indiana agreed, saying "possibly." We were silent for a few moments, thinking.

"Well, gee, I dunno. This is a hard one," I muttered under my breath. "Is it something basic, like water? Or light? Or, um, happiness? I don't know!" I said, frustrated.

"It could be some sort of vicious circle – you know, where you do one thing, which leads to the next, and the next thing leads to the first thing," Indy shrugged. "For example, and adult has a drinking problem, but he wants to forget about it, so he drinks. But when he drinks to forget, he's still continuing with his problem. Does that make sense?"

I nodded. "I guess that might be the answer. 'A vicious circle.' The first problem gives birth to the second; the second to the first. What do you guys say?" Mutt and his father nodded, but Marion looked thoughtful.

"That could be the answer..." she said slowly, "but I have a gut feeling that's telling me it isn't. This sphinx is Greek, right, Indiana?" Her husband nodded. "Well, are there any Greek myths were something gives birth to the thing that gave birth to it?"

"I don't think so," Indiana shook his head slowly. "But you might be right, Marion. It could be something Greek..."

"Well, the sphinx said 'sisters.' So it must be something female," Mutt said.

"I've got it!" my favourite archaeologist suddenly cried out. "It's actually so easy! Marion, Mutt, you were both partially right! The answer," he huddled us closer, "is night and day. Day gives birth to night at dusk, and night gives birth to day at dawn. The sphinx called them 'sisters' because in Greek, both words are feminine. In English, we don't have masculine and feminine words. That's why we didn't figure it out until we brought up the fact that the sphinx's first language would be Greek." Turning to the monster, which was patiently waiting, Indiana proudly told her that we had the answer. "It's night and day."

She growled in untamed anger, but moved aside for us anyways. "Damned humans. How did you ever figure it out?"

"We did it the Jones family way," Indy grinned, headlocking both his wife and son. We all headed past the sphinx, and I smirked at her just before we exited the new door. Surprisingly, that little adventure had gone rather smoothly. Sure, we would have been eaten if we hadn't gotten the correct answer, but it wasn't nearly as death-defying at the sirens or the gorgon had been. I was sort of hoping that we would meet more adventures with the same level of simplicity. But of course, as fate would have it, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

As a matter of fact, simplicity was the last thing in my mind as we walked into the next room.

It wasn't so much a room as a maze. Literally. We were standing at the entrance to a complicated labyrinth, with twisting corridors and sharp curves. The place was a bit like the catacombs, except at the same time, it was completely different. I peered into the entrance; I couldn't see anything past the first couple of steps. Whatever it was, it was huge, though. That much was possible to tell. Who knows, it could even be as big as Greece itself, just underground. Suddenly, some of the history lessons I had taken in grade 7 came back to me.

"This must be the Greek Labyrinth. You know, the one that was built by that guy named Daedalus so the Greeks could keep the Minotaur monster down here," I said. Indiana nodded, agreeing with me. "But we should be safe in here though, right? The Minotaur was killed," I finished. "Just as long as we don't get lost, which is actually pretty likely, we'll be fine."

"Ah, but Madie, I wouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. Chances are that the Minotaur might still be here," Indiana said ominously, and I couldn't decide whether or not he was joking. I just gulped, and looked at the other members of our group in silence.

"So? Are we going in, or not?" Mutt asked impatiently.

"How are we going to get out, though? And what are we looking for?" Marion wondered out loud.

"In the Greek myths, Ariadne gave Theuses a ball of thread so he could find his way out once he went in. It was like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for himself," Indiana mumbled. "But we don't have a ball of thread."

"Well, it's not like we can go backwards, can we? Since that boat in the lake floated away," I said. "It's either get lost in this maze, die down here, or find the Box. We don't really have any other choices." The others shook their heads, and decided that we may as well go on ahead. It was the best – and the only – option we had.

So I ventured into the Labyrinth with the Jones family and a petrified James, positively terrified of what we might find. The corners and dead-ends came out of nowhere, and one could hardly see their hand in front of their face. I walked into quite a few walls, but I was still as scared as ever. We never knew what we might find, but at least we never heard anything. Our group trudged along at a rather quick pace, turning corners and crossing passageways every few seconds. But after a while, we were realizing that we were getting nowhere.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I said slowly. "The Labyrinth is supposed to be so big and complicated that even Daedalus, the man who created it, could hardly find his way out. We're going to get lost, or trapped down here forever."

I was greeted with silence.

Turning around, I got the shock of my life to find that I was all alone. I must have turned left when they went right, and no one had noticed. Now I really was lost, and alone. Shivering, I called out, but no one called back. I started to run through the labyrinth, yelling and glancing around wildly for someone, anyone, to find me. Running in circles wasn't the best idea, though. After a few minutes, I was even more hopelessly lost than before.

Stopping to listen, I heard only silence. Not a single footstep or breath. I turned another corner and saw some sort of figure lying in my path; upon closer inspection, I realized it was James. Why was his stone form just lying there, and what had happened to the others?

"Hello?" I called out again, hoping someone was near, but it was in vain. I propped James up against a wall, and was startled to find a door.

"Ooh, maybe it's the way out," I murmured to no one in particular, opening it wide. But I reeled back suddenly as a hissing noise emerged, and I smelt gas being leaked into the corridor of the Labyrinth I was in. Shutting the door shut quickly, I started to cough, wondering what sort of evil that had been. But one of Indiana's archaeology lessons came back to me, reeling around in my mind:

"_Archaeology and history may be boring to some of you, but sometimes it can be dangerous. If a door has been sealed for hundreds of thousands of years, poisonous gas can start to build up inside of it. This gas can kill you; one must wait until the toxins have cleared before going back inside."_

Well, I guess no one of importance was in there if that old poison was just being released now. Hopefully, not enough of it had escaped from behind the door to actually harm me.

I turned around suddenly when I heard a coughing noise. There was James, leaning against the wall, no longer petrified. I guess that somehow the gas had cured him, although I didn't know how or why. But I was glad to see him – and to not be alone.

I gave the preppy a hug, and he responded rather slowly. "Where – Madie? Where are we?"

"Do you remember anything?" I curled my lip.

"No, not really. My memory is a big black hole after I looked into that snake-woman's eyes. What's happened? Where are the others? Where are we?"

Dang, I had hoped that maybe he would remember things while he was a stone. Then he could have told me what had happened to the others, and why he had been left alone in that corridor on the floor. "We're in the Labyrinth, and I don't know where anyone else is. But you've missed a lot. It'll take too long to explain, though."

"Madie, we should go home. Just that petrifying woman proves it's not safe here," he glanced at me in worry.

I laughed darkly. "The problem is, I don't know how to go home. We're lost in the biggest maze ever created."

Suddenly, James's eyes got wide as he looked at something over my shoulder. I turned, hoping it was the Joneses, but I was instead greeted by something much, much scarier.

The Minotaur himself.

He was even uglier in person. The disproportioned bull's head sat heavily on top of the bare man's chest, and he was (thankfully) wearing brown pants over his thickly-corded muscular legs. A scream built in my throat as I looked up at his huge larger-than-life form, and it occurred to me that he might be the reason the Joneses were nowhere to be found, and that James had been left in the corridor.

"Run!" James shouted, pushing my shoulders and shoving me down the corridor. I screamed, running at full sprint away from the now-charging bull. The preppy was right on my heels, and we tore down corridors and ripped around corners, running faster than I even thought possible. The only thoughts in my mind were to get away.

But it was all over too quickly. I collided with something that decidedly _wasn't_ a wall, as the sound of machine gun fire ripped overhead. Two strong arms gripped my elbows, pulling my body closer to the person that was holding me in his vice-like grip. I managed to turn around, though, and glance at the horrible monster that had been chasing us. The Minotaur collapsed to the ground, dead, his body laden with bullets.

Slowly, I turned back around to glance at my captor. Oh, God. Could this day get any worse? It was none other than Claymore's son, Allan. I screamed and tried to jump out of his grasp, but his fingers didn't even budge from my elbows as he grinned at me. James was currently struggling against three Russians as Claymore strolled over to me.

"So we meet again, Miss Clarke. What a coincidence that we run into each other in a place this huge. It's a shame, really," he glanced down at the monster on the ground, a false note of sympathy in his voice, "that we had to kill the Minotaur. Such a handsome creature."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Let us go."

"No-can-do, sweetie. Besides, I can't have you running off to tell Dr. Jones that we're here, following him."

"What?" I glanced around wildly. "You mean... you don't have them as well?"

"No, girlie. Were you separated?" he pretended to care. I said nothing; just struggled a bit more against his son's grip.

"I know you want Pandora's Box, but I swear I don't know where it is," I growled. "Just leave us alone. And leave Indy and his family alone, too. Just take your fat ass and your machine guns out of here."

Claymore laughed again, and Allan tightened his grip on me. "But you're probably going to be the only way we can get the box. After Indiana retrieves it for us, we'll use you as leverage to get it from him – a ransom of sorts."

I glanced at James desperately for help, but he said nothing. Instead, he just stared right back at me with a sad look on his face.

"And if that plan fails," Claymore added, "we can use your dear uncle Jeff."

I turned in shock as they pulled the older man out from the shadows. He was bruised, bleeding and barely conscious. "What are you doing to him? He can't go on any further!" I whined.

"If you want to save your cute little butt and your uncle, Miss Clarke, you're going to need to come with us," Allan sneered. "Now, lead us to Pandora's Box – or better yet, Dr. Jones himself."

xXxXx

**A/N:** Yay! The end (and yes, the ending sucked). Whatever. At least I updated.

We're getting to the climax...

Anyways, on to more serious stuff. I have the rest of the story planned out, but I don't think I'll be able to update for a while.

I own nothing you recognize and I don't own Indiana Jones. The song at the beginning is by Carla Bruni (and the translation is as follows):

He seems like an angel but he is a devil of love/at the end of hips and his velvet glance/when he leans, when he leans, my nights are white/and forever… hmm.

Just in case you don't know, 'my nights are white' pretty much means you can't sleep. The song's in French.

There are pictures of what I think Madie would look like on my profile! Check them out!

A huge thanks to Emily Maria, _x XRoweenaJAugustineX x, ks90, iccle fairy, merlincrazy, misslaurajones _and _Amiee!_ Your reviews really make my day.

And a really big thanks to _ParfaitFille_, who reviewed every single chapter I've gotten up here (even though she apparently just found this story)! I still can't believe someone did that! It must have taken a lot of time... so thank you!

I've been getting alerted and favorited left, right and centre, so I'm decided to raise the bar to: I'll update after every seven or eight reviews. So if you're reading this, and you want this story to continue, please review!

Tons of thanks to everyone for saying they love my story, and thank you for all your kind words! I really love you guys! And to Emily Maria, I actually really appreciate what you're saying. Thanks so much for your advice; it's awesome. Although, I have to say that I only made Madie fall down the hole so that I could show that there are holes in the catacombs, rather than simply saying that in a sentence.

I hope everyone liked the flashback :/ I was sort of taking a risk with that. I think I was trying to prove that once upon a time, James was a nice person.

Until next time,

Alexa (Lexi) :P


	18. Chapter 18: Stay

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 18: _Stay_

_And I love you more than I did before/and if today I don't see your face/nothing's changed, no one can take your place/it gets harder everyday_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

I had honestly no idea where I was going. My feet just wandered the passageways, and I tried to pretend I knew where I was supposed to be leading Claymore and the Soviets to. Of course, after a while Allan figured out I was just stalling by walking down random corridors, and he shoved me to the back of the group with my two fellow captives, James and Jeff. The older man was wheezing and dragging his feet, but James didn't help him in the least bit. Instead, he just looked at my uncle in scorn. I couldn't believe the preppy had acted like this the entire time I had been in Europe; he had used to be so kind!

I don't know how long we continued to wander aimlessly, but I did know that only a short amount of time had passed before we seemingly found our destination. I jumped out of Allan's grasp and wiggled my way to the front of the group, wanting to see what was going on.

We stood in a room that was probably made of a combination of brown plaster and marble, and the room itself was huge. I was sure that if I called up towards the domed ceiling, my echo would come right back to me. Huge statues of the Greek gods hung overhead on little platforms, and the ceiling was painted with depictions of Greek myths. Our group hid behind a low wall of brown earth along the edge of the room, and we peered over it, trying to be silent so that the Jones family wouldn't hear us.

Yes, the Jones family was in the room. I blushed a little when I saw Mutt, embarrassed by the huge wave of relief that flooded me when I saw that he was perfectly fine. Sure, the greaser may have looked a bit frazzled, but he was still in a much better condition than I was. Marion was at her son's side, standing as proudly as ever and with more shining determination on her face than before (or maybe it was just sweat; I couldn't tell). They were standing roughly in the centre of the room, in front of a small walkway that expanded over a black chasm. On the other side of the chasm, the place looked identical to the side of the room we were currently standing in, but there were poles holding up the ceiling, which was covered by hanging ropes. A little further away, the debris seemingly cleared away, and there were more statues of the Greek gods suspended above the floor. Behind the marble deities, though, was a gray stone pedestal – and upon that sat a jar.

Pandora's Box.

Indiana had been right; it wasn't really a box. It was a blue and white jar that was big enough to fit a small human inside of it, with small handles on the sides. The jar was fatter near the top and thinner at the bottom, and the blue and white paint showed horrifying pictures of the evils that the box had once contained. I was awestruck as I looked at it – I mean, it couldn't be real, could it? Sure, I had gone along with everything so far, but I hadn't actually believed anything I was saying. Not really. But this box – I mean jar – was actual living proof that the myths were real, and that Pandora's Box itself was real. This had to be one of the most amazing archaeological finds ever in the history of the universe.

Although, judging by the other things Indiana Jones had found, it wasn't that exciting.

"You can go first, Henry," Marion said to her son, and I could hear her clearly. She ran a hand through her hair, itching the top of her head.

"Don't call me that, Mom. Besides, it should be the old man who goes. These sorts of things are his forté."

"Stop calling your father old! And anyways, you're going to have to learn how to do this by yourself one day. He can't go on adventures forever – unless he finds the fountain of youth or something."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he already had. And how many times do I have to tell you that I want to be a motorcycle mechanic?"

"Now, that's no life. Especially not if you want to marry a girl. You can't support her very well fixing up bikes." After a pause, Marion added, "you should marry Madie."

"That is highly inappropriate," Mutt yelled, blushing furiously, and Marion laughed. I giggled and hid my head away from the burning gazes of the Russians who had turned to stare at me. I was blushing almost as much as Mutt.

"But honestly," she added, "you can still be an archaeologist-slash-adventurer even if you fix motorcycles."

"Yeah, but Indy left you the first time because he was afraid you wouldn't be able to handle him leaving all the time. Wives are not good things for adventurers."

"I have four things to say to that," Marion complained, shaking four fingers in front of his face. "One, I'm doing just fine now, and I'm his wife! Two, you could always uphold the Jones family tradition of becoming a college professor. Three, if you married Madie, she could go on your adventures with you. Four, that had probably the third or fourth time Indiana left me. So ha."

Mutt rolled his eyes. "Why are we even having this conversation right now?" He suddenly looked around in alarm. "Wait, where_ is_ Gramps?"

"Good God! He's not your grandfather! And I don't know; just please don't freak out like you did when you found out Madie was gone!" Marion whined, and I made a mental note to ask her about that statement later. Of course, that would only be if we got out of this alive.

Suddenly, I heard yells and shouts from behind me. Everyone was in motion when I turned around and I saw some of the Soviets dive for cover, running out of the way. Indiana Jones himself was swinging down by his whip from one of the Greek statues hanging overhead, feet extended so that he knocked over anyone who got in his way. His pistol was in hand, and he had it pointed at Claymore, who glanced up in shock for a second before grabbing me and holding me like a human shield in front of him. I screamed, covering my head with my arms (as if that would stop someone's bullets).

"Don't shoot!" I heard a voice yell, and I was surprised that it had been Mutt. Indy was momentarily distracted, twisting towards the noise, and in the slight chaos he swung right into Allan, Claymore and me, knocking us all to the ground in a tangle of legs.

I screamed, shoving someone's heavy body off of me as Claymore struggled to grab me again and keep me from returning to the Jones family, or to use me as a blocking shield again. But I slipped out of his grasp as something small, heavy and dark brown fell out of his pocket, landing on the floor beside by face. It was none other than my key to Pandora's Box.

Snatching it up, I rolled through the dirt, before trying to stand up. Allan grabbed my ankle and I came crashing to the floor again, dust collecting in my brown hair. I shouted in surprise as he roughly tried to grab the key from me, but I wasn't about to let it go anytime soon, and I held on to it for dear life. Mutt and Marion ran through the mayhem, picking their way through the chaos. I saw in Mutt's eyes that he wanted to help me, but I just threw the key at him and yelled at him to run. The greaser's reaction was unfortunately slow though, and there were three Soviet men upon him before he could do anything. At the last moment, Mutt chucked the key towards his mother, who dropped it in the sand and dirt before picking it up again and running away from more Russians, yelling and waving her arms wildly in the air. One of them effectively hit a commie in the face, but when they had almost caught up with her, she threw it to her husband, who grabbed it with sure hands and a grim smile on his face.

Great. Now we were playing hot potato with the key.

It was passed back and forth between us a couple more times, occasionally falling into the hands of a Russian, but we always won it back. The fourth time the key was passed to me, I was quickly ambushed by Allan, but I passed it to James within a split second.

That was when everything started to go downhill.

No one moved. James just stood in the centre of everything, grinning, as I looked up at him and spat some dirt out of my mouth, trying to see the preppy through the hair that covered by face. He clutched the key in his left fist and walked over to Claymore, who stood patiently waiting. James handed the key to the British man, nodding respectfully as Claymore grinned maliciously. My jaw hit the floor as the fighting and chaos around me ceased.

"_You're working for the Russians_?" I yelled in anger, surprise and disbelief, struggling to my feet, only to be taken captive by Allan again.

James avoided my gaze while Claymore answered for him.

"He's been working with us since the very beginning. I'm surprised you didn't notice, Dr. Jones," he walked over to Indy, who was staring at the two men in anger and annoyance. "It was James who told us you were at his house on that first night, and it was him who drugged the milk to knock you all out. He even drank it himself to shift the blame and frame his father, who he dropped off a mile out of town after everyone was asleep. This way, everything was blamed on James's dad, and you trusted the boy."

"What kind of sick person would betray their father like that?" Indiana spat, fixing his fedora on top of his head. Claymore just shrugged.

"And I can't believe you didn't become suspicious when we 'mysteriously' followed you to the Meyer tomb, without any information to go on. We kidnapped James so that you still wouldn't suspect him yet; we needed an inside man."

"Is that why you tried to convince me to join forces with the Russians when we came to rescue you at the masquerade?" I rounded on James, my voice incredulous, and he nodded.

"I wanted to keep you safe, Madison, and I knew Claymore could be trusted. Unlike any of these Jones people." I gaped open-mouthed at him in complete disbelief.

"And that's why you always changed the subject when we talked about your dad betraying us! And why you seemed so interested in the myth of Pandora's Box!" I cried out, struggling against Allan more and more violently. James's face hardened, and he shrugged.

"I did the right thing."

I honestly didn't know what to do or saw. What an ass!

"So you're a commie," Mutt suddenly spoke up from where he was being pinned to the floor under the butts of three Russians. "I'm guessing you always fought with me over Madie because you wanted her on your side in this war?"

"Annnnnyways," Claymore cut in, "if James hadn't told us you were searching for that map in the catacombs, our Russian leader wouldn't have followed you down there - and he wouldn't have been hanged. Not that I'm complaining. It just means more power for me when I win this thing," he grinned. "And when Dr. Jones was all suspicious of the map suddenly being out of his suitcase when he was sure he put it in there? That would be James, figuring out your next move and telling us. Otherwise, we wouldn't have followed you here."

I wrenched my wrists out of Allan's grip and turned towards the preppy. He still looked like the boy I loved and trusted; same black hair and muscles that he had had when I first met him. But now, there was something colder in his eyes. On the inside, he wasn't my heaven-on-earth. He had changed - and now he was more like hell.

"Why?" I whispered, and that fact that I was heartbroken creeped into my voice. I had trusted him with everything I had!

"The Soviets and Claymore were offering a better deal than Jones was," he shrugged, stepping towards me. "Pandora's Box is an artifact that should be treasured and used, not locked away in some stuffy museum. Just think of all the power it could give you! I want that kind of power, Madison. And I wanted it for you, too. That's why I tried so hard to get your attention away from Mutt," he added with a snarl. "Come on, Madison. It's still not too late to change sides. It's safer with the Russians - and when we win this, we'll be so powerful that we can have whatever we want. You can't have all that with the greaser. I think we all overheard them talking about how Mutt wanted to work with motorcycles – and his mother is right. He can't support you like that." He grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers gently, smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "I love you, Madison. It's your fate to join us - besides, we're going to be the winning side."

The entire room was silent. Everyone's eyes were trained on me, waiting for my answer. Mutt stood rooted to his spot, all the blood drained from his face. I could tell this was hurting him deeply - all this lovey-dovey talk between James and I, and the preppy's digs at Mutt's choices and personality. Plus, he knew what James said about the motorcycle job was partially true. Indiana was looking at me expectantly, as if he knew exactly what I was about to do, and Marion was struggling against her captors. My Uncle Jeff's expression was the most heartbreaking though. He thought I was going to choose to stay with James; he thought I was going to turn my back on everything for fortune and glory. But that wasn't what adventures and archaeology was about - no, it was about the thrill of the chase and the adventure itself. It was about taking risks, especially when you didn't know what was going to happen. Besides, no one would ever get anywhere without risks!

There was no doubt in my mind about which side I was going to choose. I stepped closer to James, and he reached out his arm to fold me into an embrace and a kiss, smiling - and then I slapped him. Hard.

"You _ASSHOLE_!"

I jumped out of his arms and down the slight slope, flicking the key out of Claymore's surprised hands. Allan reached out to grab me, but I jumped out of his grasp and barrelled into Mutt, who held me tightly against his chest as the fights started up again.

I screamed as slowly Mutt and I were pushed closer and closer towards the edge of the bottomless chasm. We were teetering on the edge when Indiana (who was the main cause of the fight) was subdued, and the chaos ceased.

Claymore walked around Indy and his wife in a slow circle, looking them up and down. James stood off to the side, rubbing his cheek where I had slapped him and glaring around resentfully. The nosebleed had actually thought he was going to win. Damned preppy. I didn't love him anymore. I hated him.

Mutt's hold on me was suffocating, but I clung to him as if my life depended on it. I think he was holding on to me so tightly because James's little speech had really affected him, and now that I was with him he didn't feel like letting me go. I didn't want to let him go either now that the nightmare was almost over; I didn't want to die until I had at least kissed him! The greaser was staring at me with the kindest and most loving look I had ever seen in his eyes, but they were also filled with fear that mirrored my own.

"Mutt, I- I- uh, Mutt..." I stuttered horribly. He just shook his head.

"You've come a long way from that hopeless preppy I used to know."

"I was never a hopeless preppy!" I complained, and he smiled as I realized the only point of his statement was to get on my nerves. Damned greaser.

"I'm sorry we got you dragging into this," Mutt said, and this time it was me who shook my head.

"I'm not sorry. If I hadn't I would never have met you," I shyly murmured, looking down at his lips and wishing for that kiss. Mutt didn't seem to get the hint, though, and he just held me tighter against him.

"I'll never let you go, Madie."

A commotion started up front. We turned and saw Claymore yelling at Indy. "If you don't go and retrieve Pandora's Box right now, Dr. Jones, I will have both your wife and your son killed!" he shouted, pointing towards the blue and white box resting on the other side of the chasm. Indiana cursed colourfully at the man, but did as he was told, since we were all being held at gunpoint. It seemed to me that my college professor's only weakness besides snakes was his family and friends being threatened.

He was just being led to the rope bridge when Claymore's new best friend yelled out at us. "I think it would be a better idea if Madison got the box," James called.

"And why is that?" Allan sneered, showing how obvious it was that he didn't like James. The preppy pushed past him and spoke directly to Claymore.

"When we were down in the catacombs in the Court of Miracles, an old gypsy said that Madie was a descendent of Pandora, and that only she could open the jar."

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't actually bringing up that old woman's ramblings, was he?

Claymore shared in my disbelief. "That's ridiculous," he stated, half-turning back towards Indiana.

"Better safe than sorry. Plus, it'll be easier to get the box if there are two people - and we don't have to waste any of our own men."

Claymore looked at me clawing on to Mutt's leather jacket pathetically, before making up his mind. "Fine. The girl will come too," he said in his British accent.

Allan tried to tear me away from my greaser, but I didn't let go of Mutt, and he didn't let go of me. Somehow, he managed to punch Allan in the face while still keeping a tight hold on me.

"Don't even try," Mutt sneered, looking the Brit up and down. And then they got in another full-fledged fist fight, but their efforts were futile. There were too many Soviets to overpower, and they quickly separated Mutt and me.

They dragged me over to the small party standing at the foot of the bridge. I struggled weakly, because I knew that resistance would be pointless. James stared at me with a grim expression on his face: this was his way of getting back at me for refusing him. So much for Mutt not letting me go.

Indiana looked calm, as if he had done this hundreds of times before (which he probably had), but he also looked worried about the fact that I was coming along as well. He protested, saying that I wasn't 'experienced' and didn't know the way things worked, but nonetheless the Soviets shoved us both onto the rickety rope bridge.

I was so eager to get across to what looked like safety that I ran, almost falling through the holes in the swinging bridge. It was shaking violently by the time I made it all the way across; Indiana followed in a much more dignified manner.

I turned around, expecting the others to follow us, but they stood rooted to their spots on the other side of the chasm. I turned to ask Indiana why, but I didn't even have to pose the question before he had the answer. "They want us to make sure it's safe, and that they're not going to die if they follow us. They also want us to just bring Pandora's Box straight to them."

"So what are we going to do?" I asked.

"Get the Box."

"But I thought that was what you said they wanted us to do!"

"It is," he explained impatiently, "but it's not like we have another choice. They have Mutt, Jeff and Marion held hostage. We only have one chance to do this right."

I scrunched up my nose and looked around. It didn't seem that hard to get to the box... I mean, the only things in the way were those poles, but they were spread out, so it's not like they were going to get in our way or something when we were walking. I stepped up to one of them. It was a thin bamboo stick doing nothing but supporting the ceiling; I kicked it over. Indiana's sharp intake of breath told me that it had been a bad idea, but nothing happened. I frowned and turned back towards him, shrugging. "Are you coming, or what?"

He shook his head in exasperation and took a few steps forwards cautiously, as if he expected someone to jump out at us. I continued to walk forwards, knocking over poles as I went along. But nothing comes without consequence.

After I knocked over the fourth or fifth pole, a rumbling sound started up overhead. I watched as boulders the size of small cars came crash down into the chasm – and onto the bridge, which collapsed and fell away into oblivion. It turns out the poles had been holding up the boulders. Sheepishly, I looked back at Indy, who was shaking his head. "Don't touch anything, Madison," he growled as cries of surprise sounded from the other side of the room where the Russians were.

"How are we going to get back now that the bridge is gone?" I asked fearfully, but Indy just kept walking slowly in front of me. I rubbed my eyes, following in his footsteps.

"This place has been rigged with booby traps," he mumbled, looking around at the room. "See those ropes there? If you pulled on one, it would trigger a mechanism that would make the roof collapse on us," he pointed towards the white ropes hanging down from the ceiling. I gulped, silently thanking him for telling me that, because I had been planning on messing with those next. Well, curiosity killed the cat.

We walked into a bare section of the room that went on for quite a few yards. I stayed right behind Indiana, grabbing hold of the back of his jacket, and we trudged along. Just as I was growing confident that maybe there were no traps here, Indy bent down and swept some of the sand away from the floor with his hand. Underneath it was a small symbol of fire; he pushed down on it lightly, and flames erupted from three different holes in the floor surrounding us, scorching the air and leaving a smell of burnt flesh behind. I glanced around worriedly, brushing off more sand to reveal more stones with flames etched into them. Some of the stones in between those, though, were plain.

"So... I'm guessing we can't step on these?" I asked, pointing towards the fire-stones, and he nodded. Carefully, we made our way through the mine field of sorts, brushing away sand and dirt when we were unsure of where to step. I wanted to break down and cry; I mean, come on. What was I getting myself into? It was hardly any assurance that I had Indiana with me – sure, he may have done this before, but what if he screwed up? All it would take would be one time. And then we could be dead.

Claymore stood across from the chasm, a look of serious concentration upon his face. Jeff was almost passed out in a couple Soviets' arms, and Marion was sitting on the ground pouting childishly, but still under the watchful gaze of the Commies. James was glaring at me in barely suppressed glee that I was doing this, and Allan had quite a similar expression upon his face. Mutt was...

I don't know what Mutt was doing, because I knew I wouldn't be able to look at him without giving up. I just wanted to be safe in his arms, doing the watching rather than the doing. There were so many things I had wanted to tell my greaser – things that would probably end up never passing between us. If I got out of this alive, I swear I was going to tell him everything, no matter who was watching or where we were.

I was cold, tired and scared out of my mind by the time we made it to the end of the minefield. We were now almost to the jar; the only things left to pass were the Greek statues of the gods and goddesses. With a bit of my confidence regained, I strode forward, smiling over my shoulder at Indiana. But I guess I should have learned by now that there is never an easy break, and that striding ahead of the expert is a bad idea. Indy was looking up towards the ceiling, a grim expression upon his face.

Looking up, I froze in horror. The Greek gods and goddesses were coming to life above my head.

Could this day get any worse?

I screamed, and without thinking I ran backwards, trying to get away, but the only thing I accomplished was stepping on some of the mines and towers of flame shot up above us. Indiana quickly sidestepped one before he was burning to a crisp, and he flicked his whip and wrapped it around my wrist, dragging me back to stand beside him. There were twelve angry gods and goddesses now standing in front of us: the twelve Olympians, I was guessing. Behind me and across the chasm, I heard Mutt's sharp intake of breath as the statues on their side of the room sprung to life as well.

In a way, the beautifully-carved marble statues were sort of like the silver monsters that had been in the room with the fountain in the Meyer's tomb, but at the same time they were completely different. These things radiated so much sheer power I almost had to squint to look at them.

I turned my back on the horrors in front of us to watch what was happening where the others were. I was mesmerized by watching James fight off Hermes, the god of messengers. Mutt, on the other hand, was fighting violently against Ares, the god of war. Oh, shit. _The god of war_? How the hell was anyone supposed to fight against him? Mutt was going to be dead in seconds! But the greaser just pulled out his switchblade and waved it in front of him, egging the marble statue on. Oh, great. We were screwed. They were made of marble, not flesh and bones. Mutt didn't stand a chance – and I had never gotten my damned kiss from the freaking greaser! I wanted to slap myself in the face for not telling Mutt so many things – like how much I really, really, really liked him, how I was sorry for always choosing James over him, and how I never really appreciated him. I was able to catch his slight glance towards me, though, before he attacked Ares, and I could read it in his eyes: _I'm fighting for you, Madie._

Something hard hit the side of my head all of a sudden, and I fell to the floor, gasping. When I looked up, the cold stone eyes of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, were staring down at me. I reached up to the side of my head where she had hit me with her hand, and found a pool of blood collecting there. Standing unsteadily, I faced her, clenching my fists.

"I'm not here to destroy the world with Pandora's Box," I said, pointing towards the jar. "I just want to get out of here." But obviously the stone statue couldn't understand me, and she raised her hand again to deliver another blow. Looking around, I noticed Indiana fighting against three of the gods. He would be no help. I was all on my own...

Ducking, I ran past the goddess and towards the jar on its pedestal. My thinking was that I could use that as leverage – I would threaten to smash the jar if the statues continued to fight against us. But Athena pushed me to the ground, and I went down hard, crashing onto my elbows. She kicked me in the side of the leg, and that's when the pain really started to hurt. And by pain, I mean the spot in my leg where I had been shot in the Meyer tomb.

It was absolute chaos in the room, but I couldn't find the time to help fight. Lifting my skirt up unreasonably high, I glanced down at the place where I had been hit with the poison dart. There was a dark layer of sweat and blood there now, and the flesh and skin was gray, black, blue and yellow. A milky white pus was emitting from it, and I winced in pain as I touched the wound. Either it was infected, or not all the poison had been taken out. All the same, I felt like I was dying. It hurt like hell, and I couldn't go on with my leg seriously impaired like that.

In that moment, I thought it was the end, because the Athena statue now stood over me, her face expressionless. She raised her hand again to deliver what I knew was going to be the final blow, when suddenly someone grabbed her arm to restrain her. I looked up, wondering who it was, and practically died three times because of my surprise.

It was another one of the statues.

To be more exact, it was Artemis, goddess of the hunt, and I thought back to the Meyer family tomb when Indy told me the monsters must have thought I was her when I wore that tiara and held the bow. And boy was he right. The marble statue of Artemis looked almost exactly like me, and she wore the same tiara that I had found in London. Even the bow and arrows slung over her back were similar to the ones I had picked up in the tomb. Artemis looked down at me in my stupor, and pushed Athena away. The statue of the goddess of the hunt and the moon reached down to help me up, her face still unmoving. It seemed these statues couldn't move their facial expressions.

I stumbled a bit on my bad leg and fell down once more, but she helped me up again. I looked over to the other people in my party, wondering if the same thing was happening to them – wondering if the other statues had suddenly turned nice. The answer was no, not at all. At least Mutt seemed to be holding his own against Ares.

Anyways, I turned back to the emotionless stone goddess in front of me, wondering why she wasn't trying to kill me. Artemis turned towards Athena, and silent words passed between them, before they seemed to come to some sort of truce and the goddess of wisdom stopped trying to kill me.

Artemis lifted an arm and pointed towards the altar - not Pandora's jar itself, but the actual pedestal it was resting on. I looked back at the stone figure in confusion.

"What? Why are you- what the hell?" She shook her head and pointed towards the altar again, more urgent this time. Athena, too, joined in the ridiculous pointing.

And then, all at once, I understood everything.

Artemis gave me a parting look that clearly said 'this won't be the last you see of me,' and then I turned and ran up the steps to the altar and the jar. All noise and light seemed to disappear as I concentrated on the blue and white Greek artifact. Poseidon, one of the gods who obviously hadn't gotten the memo that I wasn't supposed to be beat up, tried to attack me, but Artemis and Athena intervened. It was now a struggle between the two marble goddesses and the god, and I was left free to do what I wished.

Tripping, I stumbled forwards and clutched at the altar to keep my balance. On it rested Pandora's Box, which looked even brighter up close. I could almost hear hopelessness whizzing around inside of it. Grabbing the blue and white Greek jar, I tucked it under my arm and stumbled back down the steps, running and tripping through the carnage on my side of the chasm. The emotionless goddesses who hadn't killed me were still fighting with Poseidon; three more gods were attacking Indiana still. When I looked across the chasm, I noticed that the war over there was still going on strong. So far, the only people who had been killed had been the expendable Russians. No one important like Claymore or James.

"_I'll drop it!_"

Everyone froze mid-fight, even the statues. They all turned their eyes on me, because it had been me who had uttered the words.

I had made it to the chasm separating Indy and I from the Soviets, and I was now holding the jar out over it, threatening to let it go and fall down into oblivion, where no one could get it. Claymore disengaged from his battle with Apollo, god of the sun, and took a few steps towards me, but I spoke again.

"_Come any closer and I'll drop it!_" I said, my voice shaking uncontrollably. I saw his hand start to inch towards his gun, so I added that to my list of Things Claymore Mustn't Do If He Didn't Want Me to Release the Jar.

"Just pass it here, dear Madison," he cooed, as if that would work on me. I scrunched up my nose in disgust. James and Allan then stepped away from the statues they were fighting.

"I'll give you one more chance, Madison. Come with me and live a life of riches and everything you've ever wanted," James said slowly, as if I was a wild tiger that he was talking to and trying to tame. I stuck my tongue out at him, before giving Allan a look that clearly said _if you try and bribe me as well, I'll get Artemis to use her silver arrows on you._

It was a new voice that spoke next. "Madison, don't drop it. That could only end badly," Indiana said, but he didn't move towards me; just held his hands out, palms up.

I turned back to look at Artemis for any suggestions on what I was doing; she just nodded. Well, that was all the advice I needed.

I was about to put the next part of my plan into action when a certain rash greaser decided to mess things up royally. Mutt tried to leap across the chasm towards me; I screamed and dropped the jar, and it rolled away from my feet. Indiana and I lunged forwards to grab Mutt as he missed the edge of the ledge and started to fall. Luckily, Indy was there to catch his son in time.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Junior?" Mutt's father asked, furious. The greaser just shrugged him off and reached for me, as if to make sure I was real, when we both froze at the sound of a gun being cocked towards us.

"Pick up the jar, Miss Clarke," Claymore's silky voice said. During the momentary confusion Mutt had caused by jumping onto my side of the room, Claymore had gained the upper hand by bringing out his gun.

I had no choice but to bend over and grab Pandora's Box from its resting place on the dirt floor. Standing up slowly, I looked the British man in the eye accusingly.

"Now throw it over here," his voice was smooth and controlling, but I shook my head. "Do it, Miss Clarke, or I'll shoot you."

"What would you gain by doing that?" I sneered.

He shrugged. "Nothing, but I wouldn't_ lose_ anything. Even if you died, the two Jones boys are still on that side of the room. They could pass it to me."

"Madison, don't give it to the filthy bastard," Jeff suddenly shouted out. He was looking about with bright, feverish eyes; at least he wasn't half unconscious anymore.

"Shut up or I'll shoot you too!" Claymore said from between clenched teeth. "I'll give you until the count of five, Madison, or you're dead. Literally. 1…"

So many things happened at once. Indiana lunged forwards, trying to stop me from throwing Pandora's Box.

"2…"

We fell to the floor, and I landed hard on my shot leg and screamed in agony.

"3…"

The marble statues of the gods and goddesses started to fight again. The Soviets, who were unprepared, ended up severely hurt, and some of them were instantly killed.

"4…"

Mutt and Jeff both starting yelling at me, Jeff saying to get out of Claymore's shot range but keep the box, and Mutt saying to give the Brit the damned thing so I could stay alive (although he did admittedly say it with much fouler language). I stumbled to my feet, my head feeling like it was going to explode from the overload of information. Indiana stared up at me from where he had fallen onto the dirt floor, his eyes suddenly filled with understanding of what I was doing. But it was too late.

"5!"

My breath caught in my throat as I heard the sound of a pistol being fired. I clutched at my stomach as Mutt yelled out in horror - but there was no bullet in my body.

Looking up, I saw that James had jumped in front of Claymore at the last moment and taken the shot for me. He now fell backwards into the chasm slowly, as if in a dream, his body crumbling in on itself as he fell down the bottomless pit and I screamed in shock.

The whole room seemed to go silent again, and to me it felt like the walls were moving and becoming darker. Sure, James was an asshole and he betrayed us, but he didn't need to take that bullet for me! He shouldn't have died like that!

I found myself crying. I hated James, but it was still hard to see him go. Once upon a time, he had been a nice guy…

The dirt, sweat, blood, grime and tears must have _really_ made me look attractive (sarcasm intended). Indiana got to his feet slowly, but he wasn't prepared for what I did next.

"No more killing," I sniffed as I tossed the jar across the chasm to Claymore, who smiled brilliantly even though he had just killed his right-hand man.

"And the key as well please, Miss Clarke?" I reluctantly took it out of my pocket slowly. Indy grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"Are you sure about this, Madie?" he asked. I nodded, biting my lower lip. One last look behind me at Artemis on the steps up to the pedestal was all I needed for final assurance.

I tossed the key to Pandora's Box over to Claymore, and he caught it with a sure hand, unlike my shaking ones. It was the key that started it all: the key was the reason I was on this trip, because it was _my_ key. But now, it was Claymore's.

I couldn't watch as Claymore took the key in his right hand as grinned, Allan looking over his father's shoulder. Although I didn't actually see it happening, I most certainly heard the firm 'click' of the key in the lock on the jar, and I heard the lock fall to the floor. Claymore grinned, holding Pandora's Box above his head.

"Behold: our precious Greek artifact is now in my possession! I will take this back to England with me, and threaten all the world's superpowers to do as I say, or I'll release hopelessness!"

_Oh please, let me have done the right thing, let me have done the right thing…_

"But maybe I should take a little peek inside the box just to make sure that hopelessness is in there," he suddenly murmured.

"Now, dad, I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Allan intervened. "Curiosity killed the cat. Pandora only opened the Box in the first place because her curiosity was too great. Even if you just open it a little, hopelessness could get out."

"I suggest you listen to your son," Indiana said in a grim voice, staring Claymore down. "You never know what the consequences might be."

"Oh, stop worrying so much," the British archaeologist complained. "It'll be just a peek; things will go fine. You'll see." With that, he opened the top of the lid just a crack.

_Please let me have done the right thing by giving him the jar; please let my hunch that the jar in Claymore's hands is just a fake turn out to be more than just a hunch!_

Silence filled the room, and for a moment, I feared the worst. Was I really going to be the cause of why the world ended?

All of a sudden, Claymore dropped the jar, screaming. Pandora's Box started to smoke, and the smell of burning corpses filled the room. I could hardly hear anything over the yells of Allan and his dad. They were both starting to smoke, their bodies catching on fire by some invisible force; I shut my eyes. I couldn't watch, and I collapsed in someone's arms. I knew that someone was Mutt, because I could smell the leather and hair greaser on him, and because he was repeating over and over 'don't look at it, Madie, it's horrible.' I clutched to his jacket with clawed fingers as he protected me from the carnage that had been released when Claymore opened the jar. But burying my head in Mutt's chest wasn't going to stop the sound of the screams of agony worse than any I had ever heard before. I knew that Claymore was burning and lighting up like smoke; so was Allan, and all the other henchmen. Maybe James had been the lucky one by being shot in the heart rather than going to hell _this way._

I peeked out for a second, and the sight was terrifying. The marble statues were returning to their posts, but that didn't mean the destruction was over. Claymore's face twisted and melted, a grimace etched permanently upon his British features. The Russian's bodies shook with the overdose of heat; one by one, they fell to the floor in a heap. I shut my eyes again then, because I couldn't bear to watch the rest of it.

After forever, the only sounds were that of my sobs, my violently trembling shoulders, and small fires dying down. Mutt kept me pressed to his chest, stroking my hair and running his hands over my back, trying (and failing) to comfort me. It was finally over. The Russians were gone, and so were Claymore and his son. When I looked up, I was relieved to see Marion and Jeff were perfectly fine, although they were still on the other side of the chasm. Unfortunately, I still had some questions and things to clear up.

Still clinging to Mutt, my muffled voice asked Indiana why we hadn't been burning like the others.

He shrugged. "The gods must have realized that we were the good guys. They knew that we wanted to protect the box, so they protected us. It pays to be on the good side."

"Madison," Jeff coughed from across the chasm, "what in the world did you decide to give Claymore the jar?"

"Because I…" I said, trailing off. This adventure wasn't over - yet. I was about to explain to Jeff my hunch when I made the mistake of looking up into my greaser's face. His warm chocolate eyes were staring down at me with so much wonder that I was caught up in his gaze; I couldn't move. Now was the time to kiss Mutt.

And yet I couldn't. After all my promises of pressing my lips against his and forcing my fingers through his hair if I survived this, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the adventure wasn't completely finished.

Anyway, I didn't break gazes with my greaser until Marion cleared her throat. Detaching myself from Mutt, he wiped away the tears on my face, but more just came to take their place. I had just been through a traumatizing experience; I wasn't about to stop crying anytime soon.

I left Mutt standing beside his Dad and I picked my way through the minefield of fire again. Speaking of fire, in the places where the Russians had burned were now tiny piles of ash. I didn't direct my gaze towards them, and I didn't stare at them for more than a few seconds; they used to be real _people_. Granted, they were bad people, but still. They had lives and futures.

I stepped past the marble statues hanging on their pedestals, suspended above me. Nodding respectfully to Artemis, I climbed the steps to the altar where Pandora's Box had been. Examining the stone, I found a switch not unlike a doorknob. Flicking it, a grinding sound emitted from the stone, and the whole table started to turn in two directions. The inner slab of grey rock went one way; the outer ring of the altar turned the other way. I looked down to see a small hole emerge from the centre of the pedestal, and nestled in the corner of that hole was a jar covered in cobwebs – a jar exactly identical to the one I had given Claymore.

Except this one was real.

"The statue of Artemis showed it to me. She told me that the real jar was hidden," I explained. "I don't know how I knew what she was saying, but I do know that apparently I was right." I made my way back over to Dr. Jones again, and I passed Pandora's Box to him carefully. "Hide it somewhere safe. If all that destruction was only from the fake, I don't even want to know what kind of destruction this one can make." Indy smiled at me.

"Job well done, Miss Clarke," he said formally. "You are officially welcome to the Jones Family Adventure Club," he teased.

I grinned like a fool as Indiana swung us over the chasm onto the side with the exit by using his trusty bullwhip. Everything was going perfectly, and I was getting my fairy-tale ending (well, as close as it could be when everyone around you makes a habit of dropping dead every couple hours). Mutt swooped me up in his arms, pressing his body against mine in a rather suggestive way, and I thought I was finally going to get my special kiss.

Of course, happiness and perfection and fairytale endings are never achieved quite that easily. I passed out seconds before Mutt kissed me, because the rather serious disease in my leg from where I was shot became too much to bear.

Damned pain ruins everything.

xXxXx

Henry (Mutt) Jones III's POV

xXxXx

I freaked out when Madie just randomly passed out. It's not like something important had happened; something that would have knocked her unconscious. No, she just suddenly went limp in my arms, and that's when Gramps realized that we needed to get out of the Greek cave thing as soon as possible. For one, because something had happened to Madie, and two, because it looked like her uncle was going to be the next one to black out.

I carried Madie back through the maze. For some reason, now that we had gotten the jar, the Labyrinth had just given up on its quest of protecting Pandora's Box. It had moved and shifted to form one hallway, and only one; we walked down it quickly, stopping for nothing. The next room, the one that had used to house the sphinx, was empty, and beyond that in the cavern with the lake and the sirens, the rowboat had returned to the side of the shore that we were now standing on. As we crossed, nothing mythical jumped out at us, thank God. Even in the room with the Medusa paintings, all the eyes on all the portraits were closed.

As my father said, it was like the whole place was shutting down. It had done what it was supposed to by trying to stop us from getting the jar, but now that we had it, what was the point in more resistance?

When we finally emerged from underground, it was evening and the sun was setting behind the Greek ruins in a beautiful fashion. Despite the urgency of our situation, I couldn't help but stare in wonder at the sun and all around us. I hadn't thought that I would make it through that entire adventure alive, and at some points I thought I was really dead, but making it through had really opened my eyed to a lot of things. I was glad to be alive.

xXxXx

It was about midnight when they released Madie and her uncle from the hospital we had brought them to. The only thing the doctor prescribed to Jeff was rest; Madison, on the other hand, had been given severe medication, painkillers and treatment for the part of her leg where she had been shot. Not only had the doctor done a little bit of surgery, but she was supposed to not do any physical activity for about a week or so. She looked miserable: limping, crying, dirty and bloody - but I still thought she was beautiful.

We went back to our hotel (and the horrified expression on the desk clerk's face at the state we were in was enough to make my day) and separated into our own different rooms. Previously, Madie had needed to share a room with Jeff, but now that James was gone, she had moved in right next door to me in her _own _room.

I sat in my hotel room alone, first taking a shower and then trying to fix my hair. When I was finished, I lay down on the couch, contemplating getting to sleep. But thoughts of a certain brunette preppy kept me wide awake.

I was starting to rethink my crush on Madie. Yes, I really liked her, and yes, it wasn't just because she happened to be here with me at the right place and the right time. But now that everything was over, it put certain things into perspective.

The first thought was that Madie still probably hated me. End of story.

Secondly, what kind of relationship would we have when we returned to the states? There would be too much damned 'scandal' if the perfect Madison Clarke went out with a greaser. She already had a boyfriend, and friends that were all paper-shakers. I fit in to none of that, and no matter how hard she could – or would – try, she wouldn't fit in to any of my greaser stuff.

_Speak of the devil_, I thought as a knock sounded on my door and I opened it to reveal her petit frame standing there firmly. "We need to talk," she mumbled, dragging me out of my room, down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. We took a stroll throughout town, admiring Athens, when suddenly she spoke.

"I don't really know how to start this," she stuttered, "but, uh- I just- I wanted-"

"I think I know what you're talking about," I said, which was a complete lie. "You think we should just stop talking to each other," I turned the conversation in my favour.

"What?" she exclaimed, stopping in the middle of a sidewalk. "Where did you get that from?"

"Think about it," I said harshly. "Do you really think we could have a future together when we got back to Bedford? No, we couldn't, because we're from two completely different social groups. Besides, you hate me. And I don't like you either."

She gaped open-mouthed at me, and then I finally started to feel bad as tears rolled down her cheeks. I was sabotaging what little connection we had, but I had made up my mind. I wanted nothing to do with Madie. Although I liked her as a lot more than as just a friend, I thought that this was something that I needed to let go of. It was just a crush - so I was going to do everything I could to make her detest me so that she didn't want to continue our little thing either.

But still, it really hurt me on the inside to say all these things to her. I wanted to reach out and touch her, hug her, kiss her when she started to cry, but I didn't move. If I did, everything would be ruined.

I needed to do this sabotage thing quickly - before I gave in and took back what I said. And it was painful; I wanted to get it over with.

"But what- what-" she stuttered again. "But what about all those - those - those times? Like when you-" she was starting to cry harder now, and I rolled my hands into fists. "Like on the plane to London, when I fell asleep in your arms? And the- the next day; when we rode on the motorcycle together, and I got drunk, and you held me on your lap, and all those times you kissed me on the forehead and on the cheeks, and at the masquerade, and your fights against James over me, and when we shared that bed after we rescued you, and when you held my hand in the catacombs, and when you freaked out over everything James said that was an insult to us possibly being together, and all those times you held me tightly in your arms against your chest and you protected me-" she was rambling now, going on about all the little clues I had left behind that I liked her. They were some of the reasons why she liked me, too.

"And what about all those times you were solely worried about _me_? All you wanted was to rescue me?" she finished, wiping at her eyes furiously with the backs of her hands.

"They were all just decoys so I could get what I wanted, and so that we could make it through this trip alive," I sneered out a total lie.

She stood there, looking down at her feet in silence, her shoulders shaking. I felt my heart breaking; what did I think I was doing? I was a horrible person for saying all this! "I never liked you, Madie."

She bit her lip and drew blood, looking up at me again. "But…"

As I pulled put my comb and ran it through my hair with slightly shaking hands, she uttered the words I felt most terrible about. It was really what shattered my heart on the floor in little tiny pieces.

"_I love you_, Mutt. I thought you felt the same."

She just had to go and play that card on me, didn't she? Well, thank you for making this that much harder!

There was only one thing left to do. I was angry now, so I did it without really thinking about it. "I don't love you, Madison," I spat out her name. "And I'll prove it."

So I kissed her.

Stepping quickly across the space between us, I roughly grabbed a handful of her bloody and matted-down hair, and brought her face up to mine. In the seconds before our lips touched, I could feel her warm, sharp intake of breath in surprise. And then we were kissing - actually kissing. I had wanted to kiss her for a long time, but had never gotten up enough nerve. Still, I knew that our first kiss wasn't supposed to be me trying to prove to her I didn't like her, it was supposed to be me trying to prove I liked her. All the same, a kiss is a kiss.

Her mouth was soft and warm against mine, and our lips seemingly moved together like they knew what to do all by themselves. I shut my eyes, sliding a hand around her back to press Madie's rather curvy and thin body against mine. We fit together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces; but I ignored that as I concentrated on kissing her. This was going to be my last chance with the preppy, and I wanted to make the most of it.

Madison responded by snaking her arms around my neck, holding me as close to her as she could get. I knew that she didn't want to let go; I knew that she understood it would all be over when we broke contact. So she clutched the fabric of the neckline of my leather jacket in her tiny hands, holding on for dear life again as if we were still being chased by Russians.

I was the one to break the kiss. Gasping for air, I stepped back and away, out of her reach. She was crying strongly now, but I didn't put my arms around her or wipe the tears away. Instead, I ended our conversation. "See? I told you I didn't like you. I felt absolutely nothing right there. It was like kissing air. My feelings towards you are neutral. _I felt nothing when I kissed you_," I said venomously, before turning on my heels and walking off alone.

But that was a lie. I did feel something when I kissed her. I felt a lot of somethings - somethings that terrified me into the thinking I had made the wrong choice: because I loved Madie back.

xXxXx

**A/N:** Ohoho... intense...

And there you have it. The climax. There will be two more chapters (actually, it's more like one chapter and one prologue). I don't really have anything else to say here; I'm tired, alright?

Sorry this took me so long to post. I had writer's block. But now I have the next part completely planned out, so I will be able to get an update up soon!

I chose Artemis because she's my favourite goddess

Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Advice? I would love to hear it; please review! By the way, a review doesn't count if you simply say 'good.'

I'll update after another 7 or 8 reviews from my lovely readers!

I don't own Indiana Jones or anything you recognize, and I don't own the song at the beginning. It is 'Stay' by Miley Cyrus; it's an absolutely beautiful song and I thought it represented Mutt and Madie's relationship at the end of this chapter.

Sorry this part was so long, by the way. It was the climax, alright? And sorry about the rather sudden deaths and break-up; I think I could have done a bit better at that. Oh well.

Super-extra-special thanks to my fantastic reviewers _misslaurajones, Beforethedawnbreaks, ParfaitFille, merlincrazy, x XRoweenaJAugustineX x,_ Emily Maria_, Melody _and_ iccle fairy_! You guys are truly the best

Lexi out! :P

- Alexa Blaze


	19. Chapter 19: A Thousand Miles

**A/N:** I'm putting the author's note at the beginning again: just because.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Since the actual story is over, this isn't really part of the adventure; it's just the after-events...

I don't own Indiana Jones or anything you recognize, and I don't own the song at the beginning, which is 'A Thousand Miles' by Vanessa Carlton. I always only add four lines of a song to the chapter heading, but if I got to add six lines to this one, the additional two would be_ Cause I need you/and I miss you._

Sorry this chapter is kind of long, by the way. It wasn't supposed to be. I just got a tad carried away. And I would have been able to update two days ago, but my damned internet connection stopped working! I'm still angry.

The next chapter is the last chapter but I will be doing a sequel! Yay!

Anyways, if you don't really understand how I wrote the part at the end, imagine this: you're watching a TV program, but the signal keeps cutting out, so you only hear bits and pieces of people talking. I sort of wrote it like this at the end, because I think it's more effective. Sorry if it's confusing. But don't scroll down to see what I'm talking about – it would ruin the entire thing!

Please review: as per usual, I'll update after 6 or 7 reviews.

Special thanks to my fantastic reviewers _Melody, misslaurajones, merlincrazy, NightGrace, Druid Archer, ParfaitFille, ReaganAdler, iccle fairy _and_ x XRoweenaJAugustineX x_!

Review responses to:  
_x XRoweenaJAugustineX x_: Well, I'm glad you still danced; and yes, sequel for sure! Glad someone wants one!  
_Melody_: Glad to make your day!  
_ReaganAdler_: That's actually a pretty good idea. Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in the back of my mind; since I'm doing a sequel, maybe I'll put it in there! Savvy?

And now, on to the feature presentation!  
-Alexa Blaze

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 19: _A Thousand Miles_

_It's always times like these when I think of you/and I wonder if you ever think of me/cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong/living in your precious memories_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

"I'm not going to school again today, Mom," I said into my pillow as my mother walked into my bedroom.

"Madison, this is the fourth day in a row that you haven't gone to school. You're going to miss a lot of work, and what are the teachers going to think? You're not even sick! Your father is furious!"

"I am _too_ sick," I said, pretending to cough half-heartedly. My mother shook her head at my pathetic attempt.

"No, you're not. You've just been lying in this bed crying ever since you got back from god-knows-where with your uncle. Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"You wouldn't understand," I pouted, turning over on my side so I was facing the wall instead of her.

"At least come down for breakfast?" she pleaded. "You haven't eaten anything for two days."

"Too bad."

My mother sighed in frustration and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me out of bed. I kicked at her from under the covers; she stepped back in surprise.

"Since when have you been so resistant to everything?" she put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips before walking out of the room in a huff.

Well geez, woman. I guess a little bit of greaser had rubbed off on me.

_Greaser... _

_Mutt._

xXxXx

_After Mutt harshly told me to forget about everything, after he kissed me for the first time and after he left me standing in the middle of a Greek sidewalk crying, I wandered aimlessly through the crowds, not unlike I had done in the Labyrinth mere hours before. People would stop to ask me if I was okay, but I just ignored them and pushed on._

_Hours later, when I returned to the hotel, I went straight to my room and stayed in there, doing nothing and speaking to no one. I was depressed; I had told Mutt I loved him, and I got nothing back except dismissal! It may sound cheesy, but I was heartbroken._

_I stayed in the room for so long that we missed our airplane flight back to the states. So after Indiana angrily rescheduled another one, I showered and got dressed in some clothing that Jeff had brought me. At the airport, Marion realized that 'something' had passed between Mutt and I, since neither of us were talking to each other and we were doing everything to stay out of the other's way, so Marion kindly made sure I didn't have to sit beside her son on the airplane. Instead, I was settled in between her and my uncle, and on the entire plane ride back to Nevada I was quiet and just stared out the window._

_We went to Nevada so Indy could drop Pandora's Box off with some government agents, who were going to hide it somewhere in 'Area 51,' which was a government base that Indy was apparently familiar with. We all saw that the jar was safely brought there by armed vehicles, under the care of important and trustworthy men. Indiana followed them to make sure everything went as planned, and when he came back, he confirmed that things were going just fine. So we hopped back on another airplane to Bedford._

_It was weird, being in a country that spoke English again. It was hard for me to get along in Greece, since they didn't even have the same alphabet as us! I resolved to learn to speak more languages (like Indy) one day._

_Jeff and I returned home; Jeff to his small apartment an hour's drive away from Bedford, where he lived since he was retired. But when I got to my house, my parents freaked at me._

"_Just what did you think you were doing, young lady?"_

"_Where did you run off to?"_

"_Were you really with your uncle? Or some boy?"_

"_You've missed a week or two of school!"_

"_We were worried sick! The entire town was searching for you before we found your note!"_

"_Your boyfriend and your friends are practically dying of worry!"_

"_I hope you feel ashamed about what you've done!"_

"_What was going through your mind when you decided to run off?"_

_I avoided all their questions, telling them to call Uncle Jeff for all the answers. I didn't feel like talking to them and their controlling minds. _

_After pigging out and eating almost all the food in the house (and taking a nice, long, well-deserved bathroom break) I crashed in my room, and I didn't wake up until late the next evening. My parents had calmed down somewhat, but I still didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want to talk to anyone. All I wanted to do was wallow in my sorrow and stay under the covers of my bed, drowning in my tears. I cried the entire second day of being home, using up tissues to wipe my nose like there was no tomorrow. _

_I couldn't really help what I felt towards Mutt, and I definitely couldn't help what he did about it. I didn't want to leave the house or go to college because I knew he would be there, and I didn't want to see him and break down badly. It was better to sob at home, where no one could see me. So that's what I did._

xXxXx

"Get down here right now, Madison! Don't make me come and get you!" Mom called up the stairs a few minutes later. I groaned and buried my face in my pillow again, not moving from my bed. I heard the door to my room open softly, and I thought it was just one of my pesky parents, but it turned out to be someone who I wasn't expecting at all.

"Angie?"

"Hey, Madison! How are you? So much has happened since you disappeared, and oh my God, I've missed you so much, but since you're back now-" my best friend started gushing, her wave of information endless, but one look at me and my, uh, condition, was all that was needed to shut her up.

"Did Mom let you in here because she wanted you to cheer me up? Because it's not going to work," I grumbled, giving her the death stare.

"Oh my God! What happened to you?" Angie looked at me horrified, taking in my tear-stained and blotched face, my rumpled and smelly clothes and my unwashed and ratty hair.

"Go away. I just want to be alone."

"No wonder you didn't come to college. You look like a mess," she said. "Get out of bed, lazy butt! I'm going to give you a makeover!"

"No- now, Angie, don't you dare- stop it! I don't want a freaking makeover, or whatever! Stop trying to pull me out of bed! No-" I complained, but she tugged me so hard I fell to the floor in a heap, still wrapped up in my covers.

"What happened to you?" she asked, looking me straight in the face, her gaze unwavering. I had to admire her for her courage to continue bugging me when I was red in the eyes (literally) and about ready to kill her.

I shrugged in response, and she lifted me up and sat me back on the bed, wiping away my tears. "Alright. Let's get you all gussied up for school!"

xXxXx

"I hate you."

"I know," Angie responded, surveying her work.

"I hate you ten times over," I added.

"Oh well," she smiled.

"Bitch."

"Now, let's watch the language, shall we, dear Madison?"

It had been about an hour or two since the preppy first walked into my room, and I was back to looking perfectly normal, if not even better than before. Angie had practically brought an entire store full of makeup to try and cover up the fact that I had been crying, and I had to admit, it worked. You couldn't tell I was any different than I had been before I left for Europe.

My brown hair was sleek, shiny and curly again, not limp and wavy like I had grown used to. Plus, it was pulled up into a high ponytail tied with a blue ribbon, and it was no longer down and flowing across my shoulders. My skin glowed, my eyes were bright, and makeup covered the bruises and places I had been cut recently. Angie had done everything so fabulously that I didn't even look tired, when in reality, I was ready to fall over from exhaustion. Crying and jet lag can really take their toll on you.

"What is the point of all this?" I asked, smoothing down my ocean-blue poodle skirt and white accompanying blouse.

"I'm dragging you back to college this afternoon."

"No!" I cried, running for the window, as if I could make my escape that way. She grabbed my wrist, holding me back, and a fussy girl-struggle ensued, in which she won. I hadn't really wanted to fight, I just didn't want to go to college – because Mutt might be there.

"Oh geez, Madison, you smudged your lipstick," she complained, trying to smear some more of the red stuff all over my face.

"I don't need any more. My lips already look like a bright red firetruck, thanks to you."

"Stop complaining. You look wonderful," she said, and I was forced to admit that she was right. Suddenly, something hanging around my neck caught her eye.

"What's this?" she asked, reaching for whatever it was. I sighed in exasperation, before seeing her peering at it in her hand. I had forgotten I still had Mutt's dog tag on – until now.

"Don't touch that!" I practically screamed, jumping out of her reach and taking the dog tag with me.

"Whose is that?" she asked suspiciously. "I've never seen you with it before... I thought only greasers wore stuff like that!"

"It was a gift. From my uncle," I tried to lie, but my shaking voice betrayed me. Angie narrowed her eyes, but said nothing more as I tucked it under my blouse and the cold metal bounced lightly against my chest. Even though I was furious and extremely upset at Mutt, I wasn't about to throw my last bit of him away anytime soon.

Angie dragged me downstairs. It was about noon, and both my parents had left for work, so my best friend quickly made a (terrible) peanut butter and jelly sandwich and stuffed it in my mouth, looking me in the eye. "You're going back to college today."

Swallowing my lunch, I shook my head. "Not in a million years."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't keep hiding forever. You're coming even if I have to kidnap you." And with that, she pushed me out the door and tugged me down the street in the direction of the school.

xXxXx

Bedford College hadn't changed in the least bit. The grass was still unreasonably green, the students were all still preppies, and the statue of Marcus Brody still didn't have a head. I knew that Indy was working hard on fixing that, but at the moment I couldn't care less. I was hiding behind Angie, watching out for a certain greasy greaser that had broken my heart.

Angie was completely oblivious to my discomfort. She handed me my books and some pencils, pushing me towards the class I had. It was only the second-to-last class of the day, but I was dreading it – because it was Indy's archaeology class, and Mutt was in it.

Luckily, so was Angie, so I hid behind her again as we entered the classroom. Students were taking their seats, and a small crowd of them surrounded me, demanding questions as to where I had been for the past week or so. Stupid popularity... I had to say hi to every one of them, because they were all my 'friends.' My hatred of life was getting stronger by the minute as everyone who walked in ran over to me and gave me a wave or a hug, and they shared the latest gossip.

Tuning them all out, I remarked on how much I disliked being the most popular girl in the town as I took my seat in the centre of the room, watching the entrance to the classroom, but so far, only preppies had come through the door...

"Alright, class. Sit down. Sit down! Everyone please take your seats!" Indiana – I mean, Dr. Jones – tried to wrestle control from the front of the class where he was about to start teaching. "Today, I'll be teaching you about – sit down!"

I banged my head on my desk, earning quite a few stares. I wanted to be anywhere but there, waiting anxiously for Mutt to make an appearance and hoping for the other people to leave me alone. I just wanted Indy to start his damned lecture...

"Welcome back, Miss Clarke. I hope your vacation was restful," he winked at me once the class was settled down, but I wasn't in the mood for his jokes.

"It was, thank you. It's nice to be back though, _Dr. Jones,_" I spat venomously, and I could tell what he was thinking. _Could Madie have become a stupid preppy again that easily? What happened to the brave girl I learned to know when we were in Europe? _

As Indy started his lecture, I rubbed the spot on my leg where I had been shot. All the poison had been taken out in Greece, but it was going to leave a scar. Oh well. We all have our battle wounds. Indiana has the scar on his chin, Mutt has the scar from his swordfight with the Russian woman...

Speaking of Mutt, he wasn't in the lecture hall. I thought I would be happy not to see him, because then I wouldn't have an emotional breakdown, but instead, I was upset. I guess that in a way I had been hoping to see him just so that I could find out how he was holding up.

I listened intently to Indy, along with all the other students. We loved Indiana's class, mostly because he was such a great teacher, and he actually made archaeology and history exciting. Although, sitting in class wasn't nearly as exciting as being out in the field, if you know what I mean.

Class was over as soon as it started, or so it seemed. When the bell rang, everyone filed out of the room, except for those who wanted to talk to me. It was normal behaviour for them, but I hadn't really noticed it until today. My eyes had really opened to a lot of things that I hadn't seen before.

Someone dropped an apple on Indiana's desk as I walked past him, but he grabbed my wrist. "Madie, I want to talk to you."

"Madie?" Angie, who was by my side, raised an eyebrow, looking at the both of us. I felt guilty under her stare, but Indiana realized his slip up.

"Miss Clarke. I meant to say Miss Clarke; sorry. Could you please leave us, Miss Vutton?" he said harshly to Angie, and she stormed out of the room in a fluffy little cushion of anger that almost made me laugh.

"Sit down," Indy ordered, motioning to one of the desks in front of him. I obeyed, sliding into the chair quietly and looking up at him. My favourite teacher leaned against his desk, facing me and biting into his apple.

It was silent for a few minutes as he finished the fruit, before he chucked it over his shoulder and it landed perfectly in a garbage can. He then crossed his arms and peered at me through his glasses.

"Why weren't you at school the past three days?"

"I was sleeping," I said, and it wasn't technically a lie. I had been sleeping as well as crying.

"Sleeping for three days straight?"

Okay, so maybe Indy was smarter than I gave him credit for. "I was going to the bathroom as well," I tried to avoid the question – and his gaze.

He sighed. "Okay, let's start at the beginning. How did your parents react to you being gone without a trace?"

I told him about their Nazi-ish behaviour, and how I was grounded for a month. He just nodded his head.

"And how are you handling this punishment?"

I shrugged. "I don't really care."

"Alright, new question. How are _you_ taking everything? Any post-trauma stress?"

Well, if Mutt counted as stress, then yes, but otherwise, not really. "No," I answered in a low voice.

"Do you think that anything has affected you?"

"Well, I have a limp now-"

"Not that kind of effect."

"Oh. Um, well, I'm kind of realizing that not everything revolves poodle skirts and gossip," at this he looked pointedly down at my skirt, but I ignored that, "and I'm kind of tired and annoyed by all the superficial preppies. I'd rather be on another adventure," I smiled slightly.

"Are you upset over James?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess. I haven't really thought about him... I'm scared that if I do, I might go into depression or something. But he was an asshole because he betrayed us, so I don't think I'm actually that upset."

"And I supposed you're doing alright in every other aspect?" Indiana asked, pushing himself away from his desk and moving around the classroom, picking up garbage and paper airplanes lying on the floor.

"Why are you asking these questions?" I wondered out loud. When he didn't respond, I realized what he was doing. "Stop beating around the bush, Indiana. What is it that you really wanted to know?"

"You're going to have to call me Dr. Jones here," he avoided my question.

"You're going to have to call me Miss Clarke here," I retaliated with a smirk.

He walked over to his desk again and shoved some papers into a folder, before taking off his glasses. "Fine. What I really want to know is what happened between you and Mutt when we got back to the hotel in Greece?"

I was completely taken aback. How did he...? The room wavered a bit in front of my eyes, and I had to focus on the globe on Indy's desk to avoid banging my head against the desk for the second time that day.

"Nothing," I lied, hoping it was convincing. "Nothing happened. At all," I finished, thinking the question was now closed.

"Marion and I both know something _did _happen, and we want to know what it is," he inquired, his piercing eyes staring me down. My lips tingled as I remembered Mutt's kiss... God, I had liked that kiss. I didn't want him to have pulled away. But it was just proof that he didn't like me, right? So what was the point in pining for more?

"I dunno," I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. "We talked a bit, I guess, and decided that maybe we should stop hanging out when we got back to Bedford."

"Is that really all?" Indiana shuffled through some student's papers on his desk. "Because Mutt's been staying at home, in his room, and I have no idea what he's doing, but he won't talk or eat or even go outside. He's depressed or something, and it's pissing me off because he won't tell me why. My son certainly isn't acting like himself – do you have something to do with it, Madie? Because Marion's worried sick." I stayed silent, and crossed my legs under the desk, before uncrossing them. The temperature in the room felt like it had suddenly gone up seventy degrees.

Indiana shook his head. "I know you have something to do with it," he answered his own question, "because you've been gone for three days 'sleeping.' Besides, that makeup doesn't cover up the fact you've been crying as well as you think."

My jaw dropped. This guy was like a fortune teller or something...

"Alright, yes, Mutt and I got in a huge fight, but it was his choice and his fault, and I don't know why _he's _the one hiding from the world," I almost yelled angrily. "I didn't do anything, but he was all like 'oh, I hate you, I never want to see you again,' and whatnot. I practically said nothing, so I'm really confused as to why he's upset! I thought he would have been happy!"

Indy nodded, pressing the tips of his fingers together to form a steeple-like shape. "Did anything else happen?"

I shut my eyes, feeling sick. "He kissed me," I whispered, and Indy was silent. In my opinion, the temperature seemed to change drastically again, but this time is dropped six thousand degrees.

After a while, Indiana sighed. "Alright, Madie. Thanks. I'll get back to you on all this, okay?"

I shook my head and opened my eyes. "It's alright. Sorry I've been skipping out on class," I added. I stood up to walk out the door, but he stopped me at the last moment.

"You know, there's a community dance tomorrow night in the high school gym... I think you should go."

I turned around to look at him. "Why?"

He grabbed his famous brown fedora that he had worn in Europe, and placed it on his head, his eyes twinkling. "No reason. Just a word of advice," he smiled. And for the first time in a while, I smiled back.

xXxXx

"Angie's here!" my mother called from downstairs.

"I'm coming!" I yelled, rushing into the front hall. "Hey," I said rather breathlessly, putting my white ballet flats on. "You ready for the dance tonight?"

"Yeah!" Angie chirped, standing on my doorstep. She was wearing a pretty green dress that matched her eyes wonderfully. "I still can't believe you decided to come."

"Well, a friend of mine said I should go," I thought of Indiana, "and my parents were pushing me as well. I dunno why, though," I said as I left the house, waving goodbye to them.

I hopped into the car with Angie and her long-time boyfriend Andrew – but suddenly froze as I saw who the last person in the car was.

"_Chase_?"

Chase was _my_ boyfriend. We had been dating for about two years (he has asked me out a couple weeks after James left for England, and I had used him as a rebound, but after a while I had stopped faking that I liked him and I really did start to fall for him). I had only given him a moment's fleeting thought since I returned to the States, but now that he was sitting right in front of me, I guess I had to face him and accept two things: One, I didn't like him anymore, and two, I had technically been cheating on him by falling in love with Mutt.

Aw, shit. I hoped Mutt wasn't at this dance. Come to think of it, that was probably why Indiana had told me to go in the first place...

"Oh no. I am not going to this dance," I said, trying to scramble out of the car, but Chase pulled me back down to sit beside him.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Eee!" I screamed a little by accident when he leaned in to kiss me. Frowning, the boy pulled away.

"What?"

"Nothing?" I said, but it was more of a question than anything else.

"So," he tried to start an awkward conversation as we drove to Bedford Secondary School, where the dance was being held, "where were you, Madison? You've been missing for, like, a week or two."

"I was on vacation with my uncle," I dismissed his question. "Um, are you, like, my date for the dance?"

He chuckled. "Obviously. We're boyfriend and girlfriend, remember? Have you forgotten everything?" he teased.

_I wish_, I thought as I looked at the Man Without A Real Personality (better known as Chase) in front of me.

No one spoke the rest of the way to the dance, thank God. I nervously ran my hands through my hair, which was curly and loose around my shoulders, the way I liked it. I wore a light pink summer dress with a bustier-like top and a skirt that twirled beautifully whenever I turned. The dress was only knee-length, and it was a little cold for the October weather, but it was the only preppy thing I owned that I still liked. There was a white flower in my hair to match my white ballet flats as well – colors that matched the lace over the skirt of my dress.

We reached the school and parked, rushing inside to the main gym. Music was already blasting and streamers and decorations covered the place; everyone here looked to be college students who had nothing better to do tonight. Even so, people were smiling, laughing and having fun, and there was even a large crowd dancing. Everywhere I looked, the boys were wearing their best and the girls were in dresses similar to mine and Angie's...

_Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit. Mental freakout here. Ohhhhh shit._

Standing in the corner of the room away from the smiles and happiness of everyone else was a group of about five greasers, looking bored – and one of those greasers was Mutt.

A pang of anger shot through me. Indiana had said Mutt was depressed about whatever had happened between us, but I thought he looked just fine. As a matter of fact, he was the only greaser who was smiling and laughing at something someone said. Goddamn that man!

"Let's dance, shall we?" I said to Chase, my voice tight, high and angry, and I dragged him onto the dance floor violently. Mutt should feel bad about what he did; he should feel as horrible as I do! I wanted to make him jealous by dancing with Chase; maybe he would hate the fact that I had moved on so easily. I certainly hoped so.

I don't know what song was playing, but I do know that I was dancing as well as I could. Chase could hardly keep up. As a plus, as soon as I was on the dancefloor, everyone else came along too. It was really a college party now, and I smiled at everyone I passed, adding in a fake laugh here and there. Taking a chance and peeking over to the corner where Mutt was standing, I noticed with satisfaction that he was staring at me, and he certainly couldn't take his eyes away. It was as if he was rooted to the spot, watching me go on without him. _Ha._

The song ended too soon, but we continued dancing. After an hour or so of non-stop bossa nova-ing, twisting, mashed potato-ing, and doing the Madison (that dance was my favourite, probably because it had my name attached to it), Chase dragged me outside. We were both sweating and panting, but I was still too upset about Mutt to want to sit down and rest. Although my heart was racing, I paced back and forth in front of Chase, who had sat on a picnic bench just outside of the school.

"Someone's jumpy today," he said breathlessly, chuckling. I frowned and continued my long strides, worrying my hands behind my back.

"Madison – I have something I need to talk to you about," Chase said.

"Not now. I'm busy," I said, which was a total lie; I just didn't want him to talk.

"Madison Annaliese Clarke," Chase suddenly blurted out rather formally, and I turned in shock to find him with his class ring in hand, "I love you, and I know that you love me. You see, after you went missing, it really put things into perspective. I don't want to lose you, and I think it's time that you settled down and started the real part of your life – with me. I guess what I'm trying to say is, will you go steady with me?"

Now things were just getting ridiculous.

"I know that your last relationship ended badly," he added after my slight pause (and oh boy, he didn't know how right he was. He could be talking about James or Mutt; both had ended terribly), "but I promise I won't hurt you like James did by moving to England. And I've asked your parents about this; they think it would be a good idea." Ah. So that was why my parents wanted me to go to this dance.

I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes. Things were spinning wildly out of control. I had been perfectly happy (okay, that's a lie, but still) until Chase decided to waltz right into my life again and _ask me to go steady?_ Was this some kind of joke? I mean, _come on_. This was unbelievable. I had only been with the guy for, what, an hour since I returned from Europe, and he already had his class ring in hand?

"Are you _serious_?" I asked harshly in disbelief, much to his chagrin.

"Of course!"

"Argh!" I put my hands on my knees and bent over at the waist, ready to puke. What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On?

"No," I stated, suddenly standing up straight again. "No, I don't want to marry you. You know what? I don't even want to go out with you anymore. I'm sorry. I'm especially sorry if this is breaking your heart, but I'm just getting over my own heartbreak right now, and I'm sorry that I don't love you anymore. You're a genuinely nice boy, but I'm not the right person for you. This is ridiculous. I've been home for, what, not even a week, and you're already asking me to go steady with you? This is sick humour, Chase! And I know I'm being really harsh, but my answer is _no_!"

I left the dumbstruck boy where he was sitting, holding a ring out in front of him. First James, then Mutt, and now this... I had a crazy love life. Damned popularity – and before you ask, no, I'm not a slut!

Now I knew what I wanted – and what I needed – to do. I stormed back into the school gym, throwing the doors open with a bang and startling a couple kids. The people in the room with me could probably hear the adrenaline and anger running through my veins at the moment, as I walked right up to Mutt and his stupid little group of stupid greasers with their stupid leather jackets and stupid hair in the stupid corner of the stupid school gym...

"You owe me a dance," I said bluntly to Mutt, cutting straight to the chase.

"What?" he asked, looking like he had just been struck by lightning, but I couldn't blame him. Here I had been this whole time, avoiding him and trying to make him jealous, when suddenly I just randomly walked up to the greaser and his friends demanding that he dance with me. Mutt was probably going to think I was bi-polar now or something.

"I don't..." he started, confused, taking a nervous sip of the drink in his hands and looking at his friends, who were clearly thinking _what have you been up to, Mutt? This is the most popular girl in Bedford!_

"Back when we were on the plane ride to London," I said slowly, as if I was talking to a three-year-old, "you told me you were good at swing dancing, and you told me that one day you would show me how well you could dance. Well, now's the time," I crossed my arms over my chest.

Mutt shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Look, doll, I thought we agreed –"

"We never agreed to anything," I cut in, narrowing my eyes. "You simply assumed I was going to go along with everything you said when we were in Greece. Well, I'm telling you now, I won't. So get you greasy butt out on that dance floor and prove to me that you can dance better than Elvis, just like you said."

He stared at me with sad eyes, trying to make up his mind. All of Mutt's friends were looking between the two of us bewilderedly, wondering what in the world was going on and how the hell we knew each other.

"Please, Mutt? Just one dance?" I said softly, breaking down and letting some of the hurt I felt inside show through. I didn't get the satisfaction I wanted, though, when I saw how much my own hurt was mirrored in him, and how horrible he felt about hurting me. I only felt bad – and confused. He was the one that wanted to get rid of me, remember? Why did _he_ feel bad?

I held my breath, promising myself that this would be the last time I talked to Mutt. He hated me, and he wanted nothing to do with me, but I just wanted to share these last moments with him. _Please..._

"Fine," he grumbled, giving his drink to his friend to hold. "But only one, baby."

My smile could have lit up the entire solar system.

I made the rather forward gesture of grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the dance floor. He looked around, worried, as if there were going to be Russians somewhere, but I smiled and took both of his hands in mine. "Prove that you're as good a swing dancer as you say," I whispered in his ear – and then the song started.

It was the song 'Jailhouse Rock,' by my personal favourite Elvis Presley, and it had only been released to the world three days before I left for Europe with the Joneses. Because of this, in a way, it was the perfect song.

_The warden threw a party in the county jail  
The prison band was there and they began to wail  
The band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing  
You should've heard those knocked out jailbirds sing_

We did the Jitterbug, the Jive, the Boogie-Woogie, and the Lindy Hop – all forms of swing that Mutt surprisingly knew exceedingly well. This time when I was dancing, I found myself smiling and laughing for real – I was actually having fun. Mutt, too, was smiling at me, and he seemed to forget everything he had said in Greece. When we danced together, Mutt was no longer shy of putting his face dangerously close to mine, or grabbing me and holding me against him again. His warm breath on my face reminded me of our kiss, but it was in a good way. He even got so close that my eyelashes brushed against his cheeks.

I payed no attention to anyone else in the room. I don't even know if anyone was dancing along with us – I just know that I was having the most fun I could. Hang the rules, and hang society. I was dancing with my greaser, and I couldn't have cared less what people thought of us. Mutt honestly seemed to actually care for me when we danced, just like I cared for him excessively. This must have been why Indiana demanded I go to this dance – because he knew the feelings between Mutt and I weren't dead.

_Let's rock  
Everybody, let's rock  
Everybody in the whole cell block  
Was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock_

What else is there to say? Halfway through the song, Mutt whispered in my ear "you look beautiful tonight, Madie," as my skirt did the twirl thing I loved to much. What really gave me warm chills about what Mutt said, though, was that he had called me Madie. Not Madison, like everyone else. And that was what reminded me that I didn't fit in with the preppies; I was really, truly no longer Madison. I had made the full transition to Madie a long time ago. And Madie was going to do whatever she could to win Mutt back and prove that they _could _be together.

_Number 47 said to Number 3  
"You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see  
I sure would be delighted with your company  
Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me!"_

Mutt sung along to parts of the song, and I couldn't help but giggle. I knew what he meant – I was that 'Number 3.'

_Let's rock  
Everybody, let's rock  
Everybody in the whole cell block  
Was dancin' to the Jailhouse Rock_

The song finished, and I found myself in Mutt's arms just like old times. We were both breathing hard and my heart was pounding in time with my greaser's.

It was weird to be calling him 'my greaser' again.

Just when I thought my happiness was complete, I realized three things: one, no one was on the dance floor with us, two, everyone was staring, and three – Chase had just walked right through the door.

We were in a shitload of trouble.

xXxXx

Henry (Mutt) Jones III's POV

I was too busy staring at Madie's heaving bosom (I'm a man, alright? Give me a break. I'm only human) to notice what she was so worried about, when it hit me right in the face.

Literally.

Some goddamned preppy came up to me and punched me across the jaw. Madie screamed and stumbled backwards as I fell on the floor.

"Dude, what the hell was that for?" I asked angrily as a little bit of blood started to well up in my mouth. The blonde preppy stared down at me, furious. I stood up, holding the side of my mouth. "I was just dancing. This isn't a fight club."

"That was my girlfriend you were dancing with!" the guy narrowed his eyes.

I turned towards Madie. "Oh, brilliant. Dance with me so your boyfriend can punch me. Is that your plan of revenge or something, doll?" I said, eyes flashing dangerously.

Her jaw dropped. "What? No, Mutt, I- I-" she stuttered, turning towards the preppy. "I broke up with you!"

"Yeah, like three minutes ago. Was it just because you wanted to dance with this... this filthy greaser?"

"Hey!" I cried out resentfully, but they both ignored me.

"I told you, Chase, I don't want to go out with you. Deal with it."

"You're really fucking up your reputation, Madison, and you're being a bitch. Just watch – you'll regret this tomorrow when no one likes you anymore."

"Hey," I intervened, standing between the two. "Don't talk to her that way."

"Says the guy who was just staring at her boobs," the preppy – Chase – raised his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. "Look, buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't talk to Madie that way, alright? It's rude. No wonder she dumped you."

"Oh, so you've got a nickname," Chase said to Madie. "This _greaser_ has given you a nickname. Is that where you were this past week? In his bedroom, or something? Come to think of it, both of you were missing at school." His eyes widened. "You two were – were having an affair!"

"No!" I cried out, blood spilling onto my chin. "No, we weren't-"

"So now you think I was cheating on you?" Madie stepped forwards. "That's sick minded, Chase. What the hell is going through your head right now?"

"Well geez, I dunno, let's see," he scoffed. "My girl dumps me, and then I walk in here and see her dancing with another guy who's given her a nickname, and they're pressed together like no one's watching. Plus, they've both been missing the past week."

"You're even worse than I am," I yelled as the music slowly came to a stop. People were gathering around, sensing that a fight was about to begin. My friends who I had been standing beside me before Madie came along were suddenly standing right behind me, bristling and tense. It felt like there was a thunderstorm brewing in the room. But just like I had my buddies with me, so did Chase. Some of Madie's preppy friends were standing beside him, looking angry.

Poor Madison was stuck in the middle, trying to keep things from getting out of hand, but I saw something else in her eyes. She was worried about what Chase had said, because she knew that he was right. By dancing with me publicly, she had ruined her reputation. I heard her friend Angie whispering about the 'scandal,' and I sent her a look that clearly said _shut up. _

I had to admire Madie's bravery, though. She clearly knew what she was doing when we started dancing; she knew that this was going to be the end of her 'reign of popularity.' And yet, she still chose to dance with me...

That was probably what made me give in. The fact that no matter the consequences, she had still wanted to be with me. That dance was her proof to me that she was in love with me, just like the kiss had been my (rather fake) proof that I didn't like her.

What a messed-up world.

"Look, I don't want this to end badly," I said, stepping up beside Madison, "so let's not fight. I'm sorry, alright? But she broke up with you. Tough luck."

She nodded beside me, but I could still see the worry etched clearly into her face. "Can we just go back to enjoying the party? I didn't mean to cause this huge... I don't know... whatever this is," she waved her arms around her to the group of people currently watching us. "I was just dancing. And no, Chase, Mutt and I weren't doing what you think we were doing last week. Deal with it."

The preppy looked unsure of what to do next, so he opened his big fat mouth – and made things worse. "I just can't believe that you would turn out to be such a whore, Madison. And with your teacher's son, nonetheless. Next it'll be Dr. Jones himself."

"_That's my goddamn father you're talking about_!" I suddenly shouted, lurching forwards towards the guy, but my friends grabbed my shoulders and held me back. I was now furious; no one talks about my family – or Madie – like that.

"What're you gonna do about it, kid?" Chase teased. I bared my teeth at him, trying to look menacing. "Do you wanna fight about it?" I didn't say anything; instead, I just continued to try and wrench my arms out of my friend's grasps.

"Wait," Chase suddenly said slowly. "I have a better idea. You're famous for your motorbike, aren't you, Mutt?"

"Yeah. So?"

"How about a road race or a drag race? We'll start below the Terrence Bridge and the finish line can be a quarter of a mile away, at the empty, unused cul-de-sac. If I win, I get to keep Madison and you have to leave her alone. But if you win, I have to take back everything I said and I won't bug you two anymore. Sound like a deal?"

"Hey! I'm not an object or something that you can bet on!" Madie said angrily, but I stepped in.

"Fine. Let's do it right now." A collective gasp sounded around the room, but I ignored everyone who was watching.

"This is a bad idea..." Madie said, worried. "Mutt, don't do this. _You're not thinking rationally because you're angry_; please don't."

"Stop worrying. It'll be fine," I glared at her, but she was right. I was being rash and impetuous because I was mad at the preppy, but I wasn't about to back out now.

Everyone – meaning all the people who had been at the dance – followed Chase and I outside. I hopped on my treasured bike and drove it a little ways away to Terrence Bridge, the most popular place in town for drag racing. Chase had decided to race against me in his car; it was a shiny blue convertible, but nothing my modified motorbike couldn't handle. Revving the engine, I grinned over at him.

Madie was taken 'captive' by some of the preppy's friends; she was the prize, and they didn't want her running off. A large crowd gathered at the finish line, waiting for the race to start. Madie's worried face only spurred me on; I was going to win this thing – and then maybe just admit that I liked her.

Everything was in place. The spectators were well off to the side, and the straight quarter-mile stretch of road to the cul-de-sac was clear. A preppy in a blue dress came up in front of Chase and me, telling us the classic rules, but I sort of zoned out. I had done this lots of times before, and I didn't need to be reminded of what I could and couldn't do. She then stepped in between the cars, raising her arms. The race was about to start.

Chase and I both revved our engines, grinning and throwing insults at each other. I kept my eyes on the road, concentrating. I couldn't lose this.

And then the preppy girl lowered her arms with a flourish, and we were off. The race had begun.

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

I wanted to punch something. Really, really badly. Mutt just had to go and be a stupid greaser and try and prove he was tough by drag racing. Yes, I understood that he hid his insecurities by trying to act like he was a bad boy, but right now it looked like it just might get him into real trouble. This race could only end badly. And sure, Chase had said some hurtful things, but that didn't mean my greaser needed to retaliate!

God damn them all!

I could just barely see them start to race. Mutt's motorcycle was too small to see through the dark; it was almost eleven at night, after all. But I could clearly see Chase's car, and it looked like he was winning, much to my disappointment.

I wasn't a freaking object that could become their 'prize,' as Chase seemed to think. I thought I was allowed to make my own decisions and choices! Well, it was certainly too late now. Some of my so-called preppy friends we holding me back from running away, like I had been planning on doing in the first place. They knew me too well.

Angie stood off to my side, watching me carefully. Although she was completely a preppy and she was perfect in every sense, I knew that she understood what I was going through. She had been my best friend since grade one, and although I had changed a lot since then, she still knew me like the back of her hand. She knew that I wanted Mutt to win; she could see it in my face. I was practically crying, for God's sake. And she knew that I would rather kill myself than go back with that bastard Chase.

The sounds of engines got closer as the two boys continued driving as fast as they could. I gasped as Chase, who had the bigger vehicle, bumped into Mutt's prized cycle, but after swerving a bit my greaser pulled ahead, gunning it. Both men had their pedals to the metal, but no one looked as determined to win as Mutt. Yells and shouts came from the people around us who were watching, and I was actually surprised at how many people _weren't _cheering for Chase. And most of those people weren't even greasers.

The shouts got louder as the two racers got closer to where we were standing on the finish line. I could now see that they were neck-and-neck, both so close that they were only a hair's width apart. I feared that Chase was in the lead, and that he was going to beat Mutt, who was only on a small motorcycle – when my greaser suddenly pulled ahead and crossed the line in front of the preppy.

Cheers and boos erupted from all around as Mutt swerved into the crowd of spectators, doing a donut or two. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry; Chase had been so close to beating him, and yet there was no way he could have won. Mutt smiled and started to dismount his bike as I broke free of the preppies holding me and started to run towards him.

I was the only one to see the dangerous red glint of lividness in Chase's eyes, though. Mutt was laughing, his face shining, and he looked towards me, but I stopped dead in my tracks. Chase swung his car around, gunning the engine, and I shrieked as he drove it right into the unsuspecting Mutt and his motorcycle, sending the two of them flying and skidding across the pavement for a good fifty feet!

xXxXx

"_...did he just..."_

"_...oh my God. Someone call 911..."_

"_...holy shit! There's blood..."_

"_...he crashed into Mutt..."_

"_...Chase, what the _fuck_ were you thinking?..."_

"_...hello, 911? This is Angie Vutton, I need to report an accident..."_

"_...is he dead? Holy crap, I think he's dead..."_

"_...what happened? Is that..."_

"_...Chase, I think you just killed him..."_

"_...was that the greaser? Did he just..."_

"_...someone call his parents..."_

"_...a couple of girls have fainted; this is too gruesome - and real - for them to look at..."_

"_...Chase hit that guy with his car..."_

"_...someone get the girls out of here, this isn't proper to look at..."_

"_...I swear this is worse than a horror movie..."_

"_...Mutt, please, don't leave me, please don't..."_

"_...there's so much blood everywhere..."_

"_...his bike is totalled, but it looks to be in a better shape than him..."_

"_...did I just see a man killed?..."_

"_...I'm scared, can we please go home..."_

"_...I think he's dead. Chase, you're screwed. We're all witnesses, and none of us are going to defend you..."_

"_...that's horrible..."_

"_...it looks so gruesome..."_

"_...is he going to survive? Is he already dead?..."_

"_...Mutt, it's me, it's Madie, please, please don't go..."_

"_...Angie called the ambulance..."_

"_...red blood everywhere..."_

"_...is his body supposed to be bent at that angle?..."_

"_...look! Ambulance lights! And a police car..."_

"_...where's the hurt boy? Please, move aside, we can't bring him to the hospital if you're all in the way..."_

"_...was it Mutt Jones who was hit by the car? Dr. Jones's son?..."_

"_...Mutt, please don't die on me, I'm right here beside you..."_

"_...someone get the girl away from his body, the paramedics can't do anything if she's in the way..."_

"_...Madison, it's Angie, you need to let go of Mutt..."_

"_...no, please, don't die on me, not here, not now, not this way..."_

"_...Miss, you're going to have to move if you want to let us try and save him..."_

"_...Brock, I need help getting Madison away from the greaser's body, she won't let go of him..."_

"_...don't touch me! Don't you dare try and drag me away from him, you assholes..."_

"_...Madison, I know you're grieving right now, but please stop crying..."_

"_...her clothes are soaked with Mutt's blood, it's disgusting..."_

"_...Mutt, please don't die on me, please... It's me, it's Madie... Please, Mutt, I love you..."_


	20. Chapter 20: Accidentally In Love

**Indiana Jones and the Key of Pandora**

Chapter 20: _Accidentally in Love_

_So she said what's the problem baby/what's the problem I don't know well maybe I'm in love/think about it every time I think about it/can't stop thinking 'bout it_

xXxXx

Madison (Madie) Clarke's POV

"Madie, we came here as fast as we could. Someone named Angie called us, but all she said was to meet you at the hospital as soon as possible... what's going on?"

I heard Marion coming down the hospital hallway in her nightgown before I saw her; the expression on her face was lined with worry, and Indiana was beside her, walking quickly towards me. I rushed up to Marion and threw my arms around her, sobbing into her shoulder, and she stumbled backwards a little bit at my sudden attack.

"Madie... what's happened? Why were we called here?"

My shaking body was wracked by sobs as I thought about it; I couldn't respond, and Indiana put his hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright. We're here; we'll comfort you. Don't worry," he said. _Ah, but they would be the ones worrying if they knew what had happened._

"Has something happened to someone in your family?" Marion asked, rubbing my back while I got snot and tears all over her. "Or did something happen to Jeff?"

I shook my head against her. "N-no, it – it wasn't – it wasn't that, it was-s, it – it, it was..." I couldn't continue.

"It was who? Did something happen at the dance? Madie, it'll be okay, it's... oh, my God. Where's Mutt? Something's happened to Henry!" Marion's voice reached a high pitch, and she clutched me tighter involuntarily.

Indiana looked up, suddenly worried. I couldn't face him, though; it was my fault Chase had purposely drove into Mutt, probably killing him. After the paramedics had taken my greaser away and Chase had been escorted into the police car, Angie had driven me straight to the hospital and called Mutt's parents. I was now waiting for any news at all on my greaser, but I was upset beyond words. If only I hadn't dance with him, then this could all have been avoided...

Marion, who was still in her nightgown since it was almost midnight by now, rushed up to the desk outside of the operating room that Mutt was in. She made inquiries as to what had happened to her son, since I couldn't speak; I collapsed in a chair, sobbing with my head in my hands. Indiana sat next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulder – but I could see in his eyes that he was on the verge of crying as well.

"It's- it's all my – it's all my f-fault," I managed to get out.

"No, it wasn't," Indy said. He had overheard the exchange between Marion and the nurse; she had given them the full story. "From what I understand, it wasn't your fault in the least bit."

I tried to smile, but the outcome was miserable. "I'm so – s-so sorry."

"It's alright. Let's just hope this doesn't end badly. He's not even twenty years old, for God's sake," Indiana murmured, tilting his brown fedora over his eyes as Marion sat down beside him, her face pale. "You should go home, Madie. This could take a long time."

I shook my head. "There's n-no–no way I'm leaving. I need to st-stay and see what's going to – what's going to – to happen. I want to be here if he survives, too-o," I sniffled, wiping my runny nose on the edge of my dress.

"Well then," Indiana slumped down in his seat, "you'd better got comfortable. This might take all night."

xXxXx

I woke up to bright lights and lots of quiet. Someone was shaking me and calling my name softly: "Madie... Madie, wake up."

"I don't wanna go to school today," I grumbled, turning over in my bed – but instead, I fell onto the cold, hard floor.

Whoops. I had forgotten that I was in the hospital with the Joneses, waiting for news on their son. I had fallen asleep on the chairs a couple hours ago, and Marion was now shaking me gently awake.

"Well, if falling off the chairs doesn't wake you up, I don't know what will," Indiana said grimly, as I struggled to my feet. "I've never seen someone sleep so soundly – you were like a rock. Marion has been trying to wake you up for at least ten minutes. One of the nurses actually thought you passed out. I would call you Sleeping Beauty, but you look like a mess." I sniffled, wiping some of the remaining tears off my blotched face. It seemed I was crying a lot lately.

"Why'd you wake me up?" I stretched, as small memories of Mutt's accident came back to me in a crushing flow. "Is there any news on..."

A glance at Marion and Indiana's faces was all I needed for an answer.

"He's alive?" I asked hopefully, my voice shaking.

Marion nodded, smiling. "Just barely. They're letting 'family' go in to see him right now, and Indy convinced them that you were his sister," she rolled her eyes at her husband.

A nurse opened the door to the white room that Mutt was resting in. His was the only bed in it, and the curtains were closed against the bright afternoon light. I couldn't believe it was almost noon; we had been in the hospital for a half a day!

Marion went in first, and Indiana followed her, but I stayed behind. Would Mutt be angry at me for almost getting him killed? Was he going to even remember what happened? I was absolutely terrified – and afraid I was going to break down again.

As luck would have it, my greaser was asleep. Marion sat beside his bed, holding his hand, and Indiana sat at the foot, staring at the wires and cords attached to Mutt's body, keeping him alive. His precious hair was a complete mess; I almost smiled at that. He would be super pissed about it when he woke up.

My greaser didn't actually look that bad. Sure, his entire body looked like one big fat bruise, he was swollen and purple everywhere, he had a black eye, and his left leg was in a cast, but otherwise he looked sort of normal. If you got past the deformities.

Ah, who am I kidding. Chase really did a number on him.

I hid around the curtain obscuring his bed from prying eyes as the tears started to fall again. He looked so hurt and so bad that he really _did_ look dead, even if the doctor said he was going to live. Marion and Indiana were his real parents; I shouldn't even be there. Wait a minute, what _was_ I doing there? We had established that he hated me and didn't want to see me again when he said that we shouldn't be together; our social groups were too different.

I kept coming back to that argument, but it was pointless. I was never going to listen to him, no matter what he said. I guess I did deserve to be there in the hospital with him; it was my fault he was here, after all, and I loved him. I wanted to be here with his family when my greaser woke up.

Speaking of which...

"What the hell has happened to my motorbike?"

I peeked my head around the corner as Indiana and Marion started laughing. They weren't laughing because they thought what he said was funny, they were laughing because they were overwhelmingly relieved that he was alive, and because he was fine enough to be worrying about nothing but his bike. Mutt had woken up, and he was now glaring around the room, trying to remember what had happened. I didn't bother to wipe my tears as I stepped into his line of vision, crouching down beside his mother, who was so relieved that her son had woken up that she was half-crying, half-laughing. Mutt glared at his parents.

I had to endure the next ten minutes of Indy and Marion chastising Mutt: "What were you thinking?" "That was a bad idea." "You almost died!" "We love you, and we don't know what we would have done if you had gotten seriously hurt." It wasn't that bad, listening to them doting over their son, making sure he knew what he had done could have gotten him killed and that they loved him with all their hearts. I couldn't tell if Mutt was sincerely happy because of all the attention, or if he just wanted them to leave him alone.

Once they had calmed down, Indy stood up. "_Ahem_, Marion, I think we should go home and grab a change of clothes and some food, now that he's woken up," he smiled.

Marion took the hint when she caught Mutt staring pointedly at me. "We'll be back... eventually. I love you, Henry," she kissed her son on the forehead.

"Ew. Mother love," he grumbled, but he was smiling. I made as if to leave as well, but Indiana pushed me back.

"We know Mutt wants to talk to you. That's why we're leaving," he explained, and I sighed as they shut the door on me, and I trudged back to my greaser's bed. Mutt stared at me with his dark brown eyes and unwavering gaze, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking, which only made me start to cry harder. At least my tears were silent now.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, eyes bright. He looked me up and down, surveying the state I was in.

"You look horrible, babe," was all he said.

I shut my eyes tight – I couldn't bear to stare at him any longer. "Well, you don't look much better," I made a pathetic attempt at a joke. "Mutt, it was all my fault, I'm so, so, so sorry –"

"It was_ not_ your fault. Stop blaming yourself for everything, doll," he said kindly, and I opened my eyes in surprise. I had thought he would have been really angry at me. "It was Chase's fault for hitting me and not being able to control his anger, and it was my fault for not being able to control _my _anger, and taking part in that death-race. Don't blame yourself, baby; I being too cocky and sure of myself. But I did end up winning, didn't I?" he winked.

"That's not funny, Mutt. You were almost killed."

"Come here, doll," he instructed me, and when I was within arm's length, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me down on my knees beside his bed. Whenever my greaser moved, he winced in pain, but that didn't stop him from reaching out and wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, but this time I didn't really know what I was sorry for. He wiped the last tear out of the corner of my eye, and then his hand traced the length of my cheekbone to the side of my face, where he ran his fingers down to my jaw. Mutt then silently ran his fingers along the curve of my lips and then lightly traced down my neck, to my chest. I didn't know what he was doing until he pulled out the dog tag he had given me, which was still hanging around my neck.

"You still have this?" he asked in disbelief, his eyes wide. "I would have thought that after everything... after everything, you would have thrown it away!"

I shook my head as another tear fell. "No. It's the last piece of you that I have, and I'm not letting go of it. I don't care what you say to try and make me forget you; I still love you, Mutt. No matter what you do, I won't give up."

He dropped the necklace down the front of my shirt again, looking up into my eyes and wiping away more tears. "Why are you the one crying?"

I shook my head, unable to speak, choking on my own words. "Please don't hate me," I finally said after a long pause.

He chuckled. "I don't hate you, babe."

"But in Greece, you said..."

"Madie, listen to me," he said firmly, lifting up my chin with his finger. "Forget what I said in Greece, okay? I lied. I lied throughout that whole thing. I really did feel something when I kissed you, doll. And I'm not angry at you in the least bit. All those hints that I kept dropping when we were on that adventure were all real. Just... ignore everything I said, baby. I was... afraid... to admit that I really, really, really liked you."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief, hardly able to contain the excitement as my voice started shaking.

"Really," he grinned, winking. "I've been staying home from college because I didn't want to see you there; I didn't want to see you hurt. I knew I made you upset when I kissed you and then left – well, I realized that it was a mistake, babe, and I didn't know how I would cope if I saw you hurt, because I was the one that hurt you."

"I stayed home as well, because I was afraid I would break down if I saw you," I mumbled, reaching out a hand to touch his face lightly. He grimaced, gently pulling my hand away.

"Sorry, doll. But it hurts, no matter where you touch me," he said, and I surveyed the cuts and the purple bumps and bruises on his face.

"Well, there's got to be _somewhere_ where it doesn't hurt," I grumbled, not meaning to say it out loud.

The corners of his mouth twitched as he rolled up the sleeve of his hospital gown to reveal his elbow. "Here. It doesn't hurt here," he pointed to it.

I rolled my eyes, remembering how he had said the exact same thing on the car ride back from Claymore's masquerade. But unlike last time, I leaned down and kissed it gently, looking up at him through my lashes.

Mutt smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It doesn't hurt here either," he pointed to a spot on his shoulder. I kissed there as well; just a soft, light touch of the lips.

"Here," he pointed to the top of his head. I had to stand up for my lips to reach up there, but the smile on his face was well worth it.

"And here," Mutt finished, pointing towards his lips wickedly. I made the mistake of looking into his beautiful eyes and getting lost in his gaze. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't as my breath hitched in my throat. It was getting harder to breath as I noticed things about Mutt I hadn't seen before, like the golden flecks in his eyes, and the slope of his shoulders. Even his slightly crooked nose looked cute, and as I said before, Mutt Jones was hot - and he knew it. Part of me wanted to slap him for having the nerve to point to his lips – but the other part wanted to kiss him lightly, just like I had done to all the other places he pointed at.

Guess which part won.

I didn't really have time to react when Mutt suddenly shifted in his bed in the last second before I kissed him; he moved so that he could wrap his arms around me, locking my head in place so he could deepen and prolong the kiss.

My eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you said that it hurt to move-" I mumbled against his lips, but the only reaction I got was him kissing me harder.

"This should have been our first kiss, doll," he whispered, before sealing his lips firmly against mine again. And he was right: this was everything I had thought it would be. Not out of anger, but love. Mutt was kissing me now because he wanted to, not because he was trying to prove something.

At times like these, it was obvious that it was Mutt who was in charge in the relationship. He was the one who took control; I wasn't the one who kissed, but the one who kissed back. My greaser's lips were warm against mine, and I was surprised at how much passion Mutt was holding back. It seemed he had waited for this moment almost as long as I had, and now that I finally got that long-awaited kiss I had promised myself a hundred times, I didn't want him to let go as he covered my mouth with his. Locking my arms around his neck, I didn't care if it hurt him: Mutt was mine now, and our hearts were racing in sync.

I couldn't help but be surprised at how gentle Mutt was with me. Since he was a greaser, I had always imagined his kisses to be more violent or angry, but he was surprisingly loving and careful. Even the way he held me was gentle: he didn't wrap his fingers in my hair too tight, and he didn't press me any harder against him than he thought comfortable. Mutt was the only guy I had ever kissed who respected my limits.

"Madie," he whispered when we broke away, both of us gasping for breath, "I love you."

I would have stepped back in shock if he didn't still have his arms around me. "But…"

My greaser chuckled. "I told you to forget everything else I said, okay, babe? I don't care what other people are going to think when I tell them I fell in love with a preppy – more specifically, Madison Clarke, the most out-of-my-league girl in the country."

I laughed breathlessly. "I am _not_ out of your league. I'm in love with you too, remember?" And with that, he pulled me towards him again gently and continued our sweet and yet totally innocent kiss. It felt like it lasted months, and I never wanted it to end. It was the most perfect kiss of my life, with the most perfect man, even if he didn't think of himself like that.

We broke apart involuntarily when we heard a slight scream from behind us. I turned to see a nurse standing in the room, a tray of food slipping from her hands and dropping to the floor, splattering everywhere.

"Visiting is over…" she started, mouth wide, but she suddenly spoke what was really on her mind. "Mr. Jones said you two were brother and sister!" Ah. So that's why she screamed.

Mutt looked at me, and I returned his gaze. "Is that what Indy told everyone?" he asked under his breath, and I nodded. My greaser's face suddenly lit up, and he grinned at the nurse. "Yeah, well, she's a very sexy sister, isn't she?" he nodded towards me. The nurse screamed a little again and ran out of the room, looking ready to puke as I laughed. Mutt pulled me into another gentle kiss, and I shut my eyes, smiling against his lips, glad to finally be rid of my desire for my greaser.

xXxXx

**Sunday, December 8th, 1957**

Marion Jones's POV

"Goddammit, Indiana, you're supposed to crack the eggs before you put them in the pancake batter, not put them in 'shells and all!'"

"Sorry Marion. I told you I couldn't cook to save my life."

"Now we're going to have to start this batch all over again – _for the fourth time_."

"Can't we just order pizza?"

"Not for breakfast, no! Besides, Madie's here. I don't want her thinking we order in for every meal."

"But we do."

"Oh, you're no help!" I laughed, throwing down the towel I was holding and dumping Indiana's pancake batter in the sink. We were trying - and failing - to make pancakes. "I swear, Mutt's a better cook than you."

"No he's not…" Indy murmured just under his breath, hoping I wouldn't hear, but I did.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said accusingly, putting my hands on my hips. "He cooked almost every meal for us after the crash when his leg was broken."

"Yeah, but did you ever notice that whenever Madie wasn't here for dinner, Mutt usually ordered in pizza?" Indiana said, waving around a wooden spatula. "He got Madie to cook for him."

"Madie came over to our house because she couldn't stand her parents, who were practically killing her for going out with Mutt," I said, but I did realize that my husband had a point.

"That wasn't the only reason," Indiana smiled. "Mutt burns water. Madison was glad to cook for him."

I sighed. "Well, no matter who made all our dinners for the past couple of months, it's up to us now. Ever since Mutt got his cast off, he's been outdoors doing something active every day. He couldn't stand being cooped up at home, unable to do any sports."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," I said, rushing to the front door. It was pouring rain outside, and there was thunder and lightning every couple of minutes, so no one really wanted to be outside unless they had to be. As it was, the person now at our door was one of those people - the mailman, come to deliver our bills and letters.

"Mrs. Jones," he said politely when I opened the door, handing over a pile of letters. "You've got quite the haul-in today," he chuckled, pointing at the 13 pieces of mail he had given us.

"Oh, you poor dear," I said, taking in his soaking wet clothing. "Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?"

"We don't have any more tea, Marion," Indiana called from the kitchen. "I put it in the second batch of pancakes by accident, remember?"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the letter carrier. "It's quite alright," he said, pulling his hat more firmly over his hair. "Yours was my last delivery; I get to go home now," he smiled.

"It must be a pretty hard job, getting up super early every morning in the rain to give people their mail," I frowned, sympathetic for the man. Suddenly, two Arab men in black jumped out of a car I hadn't previously noticed sitting on the curb, and they rushed up the front steps to the house Indiana and I had bought after we were married.

"Excuse me, Mrs, but there's been a mix-up. One of those letters is ours, and I would be delighted if you could just hand over that pile so I could find it," one of the men said with an Arabian accent.

The mailman, who was still standing on the doorstep, frowned. "No, I'm pretty sure all those letters were addressed to the Jones house..." he mused.

I glanced quickly through the letters. "Yes, all these letters are addressed to my husband. I'm sorry, gentlemen."

"No, I'm sure one of those letters is ours," the shorter of the two men said, reaching for the pile in my hand, but I snatched them away.

"Don't touch my mail," I grumbled.

"There is a letter from Egypt that you have that is of utmost importance to us," the first Arab said. "We need it back immediately."

Flipping through the letters again, I found the one he was talking about, but I shook my head. "It's addressed to Indiana. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to get going."

"But we really need that letter!" the second man yelled, jumping for it, but the first man in black held him back.

"Fine," he said, glaring at me. "But let this be a warning. You do _not _want to open that envelope." This only made me want to open the mail even more. I was about to open my mouth to say something back when a loud crash sounded from the kitchen.

"Shit. Marion, I think I broke the toaster," Indy yelled at me. Sighing, I glared at the Arabs and then said goodbye to the mailman and sent him on his way, closing the door and walking back to the kitchen, which now looked like a bomb had gone off in it.

"Actually, no, it was the blender that you broke," I smiled, pointing my husband towards the broom so that he could clean up the mess. Who would have thought that _Indiana Jones_ of all people would get lost in his own kitchen?

I slid into a chair at the counter, clearing away some of the clutter so that I could put my elbows on the table. I read the titles of the letters out loud to Indy as I flipped through them: "Water bill, lighting bill, another bill, electricity bill, bill, more bills, bill, paycheck from the university, bill, letter from a student who's handing in his paper on ancient Greece three weeks late, bill, bill… oh, look! Here's a letter from Sallah, addressed to you!" I waved a letter in an old yellow envelope in front of Indiana's nose. "I wonder how he got your new address, and why he didn't mail this to the old apartment?"

"He probably found the address through the university," Indiana mumbled, pulling out a garbage bag to put the blender in. "Open it up. I want to read it; I haven't talked to him in a couple of years." Sallah was Indiana's best friend, and he lived in Egypt, where he was well-known for being the best digger there. They had been on a ton of archaeological adventures together, including when I had found the Ark of the Covenant with them.

Wait, so those two men in black hadn't wanted me to read _Sallah's _letter? What was wrong with it?

I tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out slowly, surveying the handwriting. It was decidedly feminine; this letter was from Sallah's wife Fayah. As I scanned through it, a frown etched itself on my face as I became increasingly worried. "Indyyyy…"

He heard the anxious tone in my voice and rushed over, dropping the blender parts on his toe in haste. Once he was done yelling in pain, he stood behind me, reading over my shoulder.

"Unknown organization… three weeks gone… ransacked house… Sallah's gone missing, and Fayah thinks he's been kidnapped!" he exclaimed in anger and surprise. "She's notified the police, but they haven't done anything about it, so they're seeking my help!" he finished reading the hastily-written letter. Running a hand over his face, Indiana sighed. "What are we supposed to do? We're on the other side of the world, for God's sake!"

I flipped through the mail again, pulling out the paycheck from the university. "We could always put this to good use," I winked, waving the letter under his nose. "Come on, Indy. We can't just forget about them. He's got nine children, and he's your best friend! Something has to be done: I say we buy four plane tickets to Egypt and track down Sallah. It'll be another adventure!" I smiled.

He glared at me. "_Four_ tickets?"

"What, did you actually think we would leave Madie behind?" I scoffed, faking that I was offended.

Indiana bit his lip, trying to think it all through. His best friend _had_ gone missing, and Fayah said that Indy was their last hope of finding him…

"Fine. We'll go," Indiana smiled. "It'll do us all some good to get out of the house again and maybe even partake in an adventure. Besides, Madie's been bugging me constantly about it, and I can tell that Mutt is eager to _really_ get out of the house, now that his leg has healed."

"Yessss!" I cried, jumping out of my chair and putting my arms around my husband. When he looked at me strangely, I shook my head. "Can't a woman be excited to go on a trip?" I winked. "Let's leave tomorrow. Does that sound good?"

"I have to teach…"

"This can't wait, Indiana," I rolled my eyes. "The letter itself is two weeks old," I pointed towards the date. "Who knows what's happened since then. Plus," I added, thinking about the men in black at the door who had wanted to take the letter from me, "I think that this might be bigger than the letter suggests. There were two strange men at the door today, and they were demanding that I give the letter back to them. Someone doesn't want you to rescue Sallah," I finished suspiciously. Had those two Arabs really tracked the letter all the way from Egypt just so Indiana couldn't read it? It was the best guess I had.

He sighed. "Okay, you have a point. If there are strange people trying to make sure we don't read this, then something is definitely wrong. We'll leave first thing after school tomorrow. Does that make you happy?"

"Very much so!" I squealed like a little schoolgirl, grinning. "We should go tell Madie and Mutt right now. Speaking of them, where are they?"

"Well, they're not outside, since it's raining…" Indiana mused. "I think they're in Mutt's bedroom." We both stopped moving and listened intently for a sound that I must admit we both feared: the sound of the bed creaking and the blankets being jostled around.

"Do you think they're actually…?" I said when that sound ran through the house loud and clear. "You know… do you think they're… _doing the do_?"

And just like any good parents would, we took no moment's hesitation in bounding up the stairs and bursting into Mutt's room without knocking.

When I entered, Madie shrieked in surprise and fell off the bed, into a pile of Mutt's dirty laundry. I noted that they were both still wearing clothes, at least, although Mutt had removed his leather jacket and it was now in the pile of laundry Madison was sitting in. My son, too, fell off the bed, laughing so hard he could barely stand up straight.

"What were you two doing up here?" Indiana asked suspiciously.

"Jumping on the bed," Madie grinned, wiping tears of laughter out of her eyes. That would explain the creaking bed.

"What's up, old man? You seem worried about something," Mutt said, sitting down beside Madie on his Tower of Laundry. He slung his arm over her shoulders, and I couldn't help but remark how comfortable they were with each other. And they didn't even have to go out to a club (or whatever young people did nowadays) to have fun – as we had proved about three seconds ago, they were perfectly content by being immature and jumping on the bed.

"Well," Indiana started, grinning, "I have some big news that'll make you both very, very happy."

"What's that?" Madie asked, her eyes all wide and innocent.

I grinned at the two of them: they had absolutely no idea what they were getting into. "We're going on another adventure!"

xXxXx

**A/N:** Don't you just love happy endings?

I don't really know what to say here, now that the story is finished, which kind of makes me sad – but at least there's a sequel, right? ;) I can't add links to this page, so either go to my profile or go to the 'Indiana Jones' page to read the first chapter of the sequel, and then click 'follow story' if you want to continue to follow the adventures of everyone I wrote about! And yes, that thing about Sallah that you just read is the intro to the next story, but not the _entire_ intro, so you're going to have to read Chapter 1 for the full thing. You see though, there _are _reasons to continue reading: had I really just put Vicky Prentiss in this story for no reason, or does she have a bigger role in all of this? And what happened to those two Greek objects (the golden apple and the crescent moon tiara) that Madie picked up when she was in the Meyer tomb? Eh?

Huge thanks bigger than the universe itself to everyone who has ever reviewed, ever. Special thanks, though, to the people who reviewed the last chapter: _ParfaitFille, misslaurajones, merlincrazy, ks90, Melody _and _x XRoweenaJAugustineX x_! You guys are the people who have stuck with me throughout this entire thing; thank you forever!

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter – I actually had a lot of fun writing it. Reviews would be appreciated, so I can understand how you guys felt about the entire story in general, or just about what you would like to see happen! And if you could please leave a comment on the next story if you choose to read it, just so I can see who will be following these adventures! :)

And yes, I (obviously) took the 'it doesn't hurt here' part from _Raiders_. I just thought it was so sweet, and it was like a little bit of reminiscing: Mutt and Madie could be the next Indy and Marion!

Anyways... I don't own Indiana Jones or anything else you may recognize, and the song at the beginning is 'Accidentally in Love' by the Counting Crows, and it's from the Shrek 2 soundtrack. I just thought it was the most absolutely perfect song for Madie and Mutt, because it describes their relationship _exactly:_

_So she said what's the problem baby/what's the problem I don't know well maybe I'm in love/think about it every time I think about it/can't stop thinking 'bout it/how much longer will it take to cure this/just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love/makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love/melting under blue skies/belting out sunlight/shimmering love/well I didn't mean to do it/but there's no escaping your love/these lines of lightning mean we're never alone/never alone, no, no/move a little closer/I want to hear you whisper/settle down inside my love/we were once upon a time in love/we're accidentally in love/accidentally/I'm in love/come on, come on/spin a little tighter/come on, come on/and the world's a little brighter/come on, come on/just get yourself inside her love/...I'm in love_

That's pretty much all the good parts of the song in a (rather large) nutshell :) The double lines are places in the song where I skipped over lines and lyrics.

Don't you agree that it's sort of how Mutt and Madie feel? ;)

I hope everyone enjoyed the story, and that they had as much fun reading it as I had writing it!  
- Lexi Blaze :P


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